Rocks In The Road
by Bludge
Summary: Some killer’s have the worst timing. But can the CSIs sort out their personal problems before his next victim becomes one of their own? CG, NS, WOC (extended summary inside) Sequel to The Hidden Truth Chapter 15 is up! R
1. Living The Wrong Life

Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't Sue. Do Review.  
  
Extended Summery: Strippers and prostitutes have been going missing, then turning up 3 nights later, raped and drowned. And the killer couldn't have come at a worse time; Warrick is having problems with his feelings, Catherine's been removed from the case, the return of Nick's ex has caused tension in his and Sara's relationship, and Grissom's thinking about his future with Cath. But can they put their problems aside and catch the killer before his next victim becomes one of their own?  
  
Timeline- Set a year after 'The Hidden Truth'. C/G and N/S are still together and Jenny's given birth.  
  
A/N: Hey I'm back again! Thank you firstly to everyone who reviewed the last chapter of 'The Hidden Truth'. By popular demand I've written a sequel, with a new case and the promised the return of Jenny and Brit during this story. It doesn't matter too much if you didn't read the first one. I'll fill you in on the details you've missed. I've just finished a week full of tests and I've got an important science one I need to continue to revise for. But writing this has been a refreshing break. Any who, R&R and Enjoy!! - Bex  
  
Original Characters From 'T.H.T'- Brit Warner: Ex-criminologist and friend of Catherine and Grissom. He retired after his wife and daughter were kidnapped then murdered. On trying to catch the perp, he got a bullet in his leg leaving him with a limp. His protégé is Jenny Sinclair.  
  
Jenny Sinclair: She's 26, has a degree in psychology and forensic science and wants to become a CSI. Her father was murdered when she was 12 and Brit Warner trained her when she was 18. Her husband, Ethan Sinclair, was murdered a year ago (The Hidden Truth) and she gave birth to their daughter, Melissa, six months ago.  
  
Hoped that filled you in if you didn't know before. Well on with the show.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Someone was watching her, she was sure of it. But in her line of work, you get used to people watching you. Except right now she was in the deserted locker room, preparing for her shift to start, hidden away from the perverts who got their jollies from seeing her dance.  
  
'Paranoid,' she snapped at herself as she flung her locker door open.  
  
Yet she still couldn't shake that felling.  
  
Portia sighed and ran a tried hand through her golden hair, blinking as her weary cloudy-blue eyes tried to focus. Portia Hrubeck was a 40-year-old woman, who's neither figure nor face showed it. Nor maturity when you thought about it. She knew that she was anything but a responsible, mature adult. She had trouble enough caring for herself, let alone her two children.  
  
Looking up at the picture of the pair stuck on the inside of her locker door, she couldn't help but smile. Her eldest, Marie, was 13 almost 14, except her maturity out numbered her years. Her other daughter, Abby, was barely 3. Really Marie had raised Abby more then she had. And what a good job she'd done. Portia felt a swell of pride and thought how her daughter was probably tucking in Abby right now. Both girls had never met their fathers. Their fathers were abandoning assholes and their mother a slut. What a life to be born into.  
  
She felt a trickle of liquid running down her face. Turning her head her head to look in her mirror, she saw a fine river of blood running from her nose.  
  
"Shit," She swore softly, grabbing a tissue to stop the blood.  
  
'Maybe Catherine's right,' Portia thought. 'Maybe I should give up my habit.'  
  
'Of course she's right,' a voice snapped. 'She's always right. She managed to get out of this life and do something useful. But look at you, still stuck here.'  
  
She stared at the picture of her and Catherine together with their 'colleges'. Cath had a life she could only dream of having. She had a well- paid and respected job, gave up her habit, broke free of the cycle of abusive partners and was a great mother. Portia felt her stomach knot in jealousy towards her friend.  
  
She continued to timidly change. She'd never felt comfortable in her own skin. Years of men's eyes greedily watching it had made her feel dirty. A dirt she could never wash off.  
  
Her hand itched to reach for her stash. One snort and for a few hours she wouldn't give a damn. For a few hours she'd be free. She weighed the options about in her head and finally shoved aside her weak self-restraint. The craving was too strong for her to fight. Her hand had just clasped around her stash, when a noise echoed around her, making her jump and drop it.  
  
Portia looked wildly around herself. The locker room was eerily empty. But where did that noise come from?  
  
"Joe?" She called, wondering if it was her boss about to tell her to hurry up.  
  
Silence.  
  
'Paranoid,' She snapped angrily to herself and turned back to her locker.  
  
But the coke never reached her nose. A cloth got there first. A strong hand sealed it around her mouth and nose. Portia tried to struggle, but the intoxicating fumes she inhaled from the cloth made her head spin.  
  
'Where the hell did this guy come from?' Her swaying head asked desperately.  
  
But she was too confused to think of an answer. She tried feebly to fight the drug, thinking of her two girls, before she sank into the darkness.  
  
A/N: What do you think? I'm sure you've got opinions and I want to hear them. So give in and hit that little button now! :o) 


	2. The Horrors of Déjà Vu

Disclaimer: Me not own!  
  
A/N: Hey again. I thought I'd been nice and update this sooner, but it wouldn't let me :o( * Shakes angry fist *. Thanks to all who reviewed the first chapter: A Bloom, pdhtgal, The Madhatter, MissyJane, cRaZyPiXiE and PITAchic. The reviews are much appreciated, along with suggestions and feelings, so please keep them coming. Well I need to get on with my revision, so I'll leave you to read the next chapter. R&R and Enjoy!!! - Bex  
  
~*~3 nights later~*~  
  
Grissom couldn't hear a thing. Even though his surgery had been a success, restoring his hearing, the sight in front of him numbed his ears, blocking out the noise around him.  
  
Lying in front of him was the dead body of Portia Hrubeck. Not only was she the fourth victim of their killer, but also the deceased stripper was a friend of Catherine's. He dreaded having to be the one to tell her the news. Not to mention Portia's daughters.  
  
He thought about how Cath might react. Would she blame him for not finding her in time? He'd pulled her off the case 3 nights ago after her friend went missing, promising her that they would do everything they could to find her. And they had failed.  
  
A blinding flash made him zoom back in. He looked up to see Sara photographing the body, her camera clicking as she went. He'd reassigned Warrick to work on any other cases with Catherine when they came in. There weren't any at the moment; so, consequently, both were waiting at home. Waiting for news. How ever, Nick was already searching the scene.  
  
'What's the point?' Grissom thought grimly. 'The bastard wouldn't have left us anything.'  
  
But maybe this crime scene would be different from the other four. Maybe the killer had slipped up, leaving them some evidence to their identity. He highly doubted it.  
  
Portia Hrubeck had shared the same fate as the other victims before her, and they didn't have a damn thing to stop it from happening again. No one deserved this. Not even the women that the Sin City didn't give a damn about.  
  
All of the victims had been female and either a stripper or a prostitute. The ones at the bottom of the food chain. The killer would first abduct them early on in the first night; keep them somewhere on the second, then rape, drown and dump them later on the third night. Then they would repeat the pattern all over again.  
  
Each victim had been dumped in a public place, found dressed in identical white, flowing dresses that were brand-new and homemade. Their eyes were shut in fake peacefulness, arms crossed over their chest, a lily clutched in one hand as if in some sort of romantic slumber. Like a sleeping beauty out of a fairly tail. Though there was no happily ever after for them.  
  
Except this time there was something different: the asshole was early. It was 1.26 am now, but the killer usually dumped the bodies later on in the night. Grissom didn't know what to make of it. He didn't know if there was anything to be made from it.  
  
He knew already that Doctor Al Robbins would already repeat to him what he already knew; that Portia had died the exact same way as the other vics. He stared at her, feeling guilty at knowing that there was probably nothing here to lead them to her killer. That she wouldn't get justice for her death. That her children would not receive their closure. And that some other poor individual would share the same fate just for being in the wrong line of work.  
  
He felt useless. He felt like he'd failed her. But he knew he shouldn't give up hope just yet. There was still the crime scene to search in feeble attempted to spot their killer's mistake. If there were any to find.  
  
"Found anything Nick?" He called to the younger CSI, trying his best to not get his hopes up.  
  
Nick shook his head dishearten, "Not yet."  
  
"Keep looking ok," He ordered.  
  
"Sure boss. But I think it's gonna be just like the others."  
  
'Same here Nick,' Grissom agreed silently, but kept that thought to himself.  
  
"I'm all done here Gris," Sara announced.  
  
He could hear the frustration and pity in her voice. This case was wearing her down, just like it was doing to everyone else.  
  
He nodded and waved two men over. They gently placed Portia's corpse into a body bag, lifting her onto a stretcher and carrying her off to begin her journey to Al's autopsy slab.  
  
Grissom began to think about his options. He thought about asking Brit or even Jenny to take a look at the case. He couldn't help but smile inwardly when he thought about the beautiful baby girl she'd given birth to six months ago. A precious infant she'd named Melissa after her husband's best friend. Deceased just like him. He knew she still had a hard time coping with Ethan's death, but they were always there for her. Warrick had become especially closed to her, another helpless person trapped by her magnetism. But he worried, for both their sakes, about how deep Warrick's feelings were. Gris just hoped that he knew what he was doing.  
  
Even though Jenny didn't work for him, he still wanted to get her thinking like a CSI she was destined to become. He would send her past case files and sometimes even ones they were still working on to see what she made of them. And quite a few times she'd spotted things he hadn't noticed or over looked, by using her knowledge of human behaviour as psychologist. Just like Brit would have done; look at the evidence, then the people, and then piece the two together. He wondered what they would make of this.  
  
Grissom picked up his torch and joined Nick and Sara as they searched for phantom clues. He knew checking footprints would be useless, because this was a public footpath which was only deserted at this time in the morning. And there were no tyre marks on the road.  
  
As Grissom searched, only one thing ran through his mind: 'How am I going to tell Catherine? Tell her that her friend's killer is going to get away, free to repeat the crime again?'  
  
They spent the next few bleak hours searching the crime scene, only having their false hope to keep them going. Only to have it crushed once again. Grissom knew that both of his CSIs had given up long before him, but his desperation for a clue made him ignore this and insist that they kept going.  
  
Finally, he called it off and told them that they better go back to lab. Empty handed again. He tricked his defeated mind into thinking that maybe Al would find something new when he did his autopsy. Or maybe there was a fibre or something on the dress. False hope was better then no hope at all.  
  
They climbed back into the SUV, all sharing the feeling of defeat and failure.  
  
"Our killer's only human," He told them to remind himself as much as them. "They'll slip up sooner or later."  
  
"Yeah," came unbelieving replies.  
  
Grissom thought back over the file about the abduction scene. Portia Hrubeck was kidnapped from the locker room of the strip club she worked at. Her locker door was still wide open. They had found traces of coke spilled across the floor, along with a bloody tissue, which was her blood. Catherine confirmed that she had a coke habit, so the blood was probably from a nosebleed as a result from this. Her locker door had caught Grissom's attention. It wasn't because of the photo of her girls, nor the mirror, but something that was missing. There were traces left behind from tape in a pattern as if it had been used to hold a photograph in place. A photograph that was no longer there, even if it had been in the first place.  
  
Then there was the club full of people. Full of people who'd neither heard nor saw anything. He was, by that time, at the stage when he was willing to trust witnesses.  
  
'Because,' Grissom thought darkly, 'How are you meant to only trust the evidence, when there is no evidence to trust?'  
  
A/N: What do you think? Make that little button's day and my day by leave a review. Go on, you know you want to! :o) 


	3. Trouble On The Horizon

Disclaimer: Still don't own!  
  
A/N: Hey. I thought I'd be nice and update quickly again. I've got a really important science test next week so I have to study for that and also I've got course work, so the next chapter may take a little longer. Sorry. Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter: The Madhatter, PITAchic, MissyJane, Galxychld, pdhtgal, cRaZyPiXiE, A Bloom and ArodLoverus2001. Thank you so much and please keep them coming. Well on with the plot; the whole gang's in this chapter. R&R and ENJOY!!! - Bex  
  
Warrick was enjoying being away from work and for once sleeping the night hours like normal people. But his peaceful sleep was disturbed by the phone blaring into life. He shifted stiffly as he rose, wiping his blurred eyes with his hand and fumbling with his other hand for the irritating phone.  
  
"Hello?" He answered groggily.  
  
"Warrick?"  
  
The fear in the familiar voice on the other end made his systems jolt into fully alert.  
  
"Hey, is everything ok?" He asked concerned.  
  
"Can...can you come over?" The voice pleaded.  
  
"Sure. I'll be there in less then 15 minutes," He promised, "Ok?"  
  
"Ok."  
  
He hung up the phone and hurriedly pulled on some clothes, driven by the worry in his heart.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Sara hated it when they couldn't solve a case. It raged her that someone had gotten away with, so far, four murders; this time leaving two kids orphans. But it was her hatred for the preps that drove her and forced her to do her best. Only her best was ever good enough. But right now she was grateful that Gris had told her that she could go.  
  
She continued the walk from the locker room to the lab where Nick was working on the dress. A dress free from evidence she bet.  
  
She let out a sigh. She didn't know what was up with him lately. He'd been a bit distant and cut off, always avoiding her eye when he repeated his lame reassurance when she asked what was wrong. At first she thought it might be the case, but now she wasn't so sure. She had tried to talk to Warrick to see if he knew anything, but he'd unconvincingly denied knowing anything. Sara had known them both long enough to know that something was up.  
  
'Damn you Hank for screwing up my relationship radar,' She cursed him silently.  
  
She paused at the door, watching Nick as he finished analysing the dress, totally oblivious to her presences. Quietly, she walked up behind him and slipped her arms around his waist.  
  
"Hey cowboy," She whispered softly, planting a kiss on his neck.  
  
"Hey."  
  
Did she imagine it or did he stiffen uncomfortably when he realised that it was her?  
  
'It was probably your mind playing tricks on you,' a voice hissed. 'Get a grip Sidle.'  
  
"Found anything?"  
  
"Nope," He replied blankly.  
  
Just like every dress before.  
  
"Well Gris is letting me go early, so I can always warm up the bed for you," She told him playfully.  
  
"Yeah," was his simple reply, sliding out of her arms and backing away.  
  
She couldn't suppress her sigh of frustration even if she wanted to. He hadn't once yet looked straight at her, let alone made eye contact.  
  
"Nick, what's going on?" She demanded, any ideas of tact flying out the window.  
  
"I don't know wha..."  
  
"Bullshit Nick," She cut across annoyed at him for keeping her at arm's length. "You've been distant and avoiding me. And you're awkward when I'm around. Don't think I haven't noticed; I'm a level 3 for a reason. So tell me what the hell's going on?"  
  
Nick shuffled uncomfortably, fixing his eyes on the floor and away from her questioning glare. He'd out this off as long as he could, worried about how she might react. Worried that she would be upset like she was now.  
  
"You remember Michelle Evans?" He began.  
  
"Yeah," Sara replied. How could she forget her? She was one of Nick's exs. Not only that, but they had also been engaged once. She swallowed; "What about her?"  
  
"She's coming to Las Vegas."  
  
"When?"  
  
He now dared to slowly meet her gaze.  
  
"Tomorrow."  
  
There was a pause as he waited for Sara's reaction.  
  
"Why the hell didn't you tell me before?" She shouted at him.  
  
"Because...I don't know how you'd react. I didn't want you getting pissed off with me," He stated, "Like you are now."  
  
"How'd you expect me to react? I'm pissed cos you didn't tell me before. Where you ever gonna tell me?"  
  
He stayed silent, dropping his gaze again, ashamed at causing this fight, at not telling her before.  
  
"Great!" She muttered angrily, turning away from him. "This is just perfect!" She spun back, "Why the hell did you even have the need to keep this from me?"  
  
"Because..." He stuttered, all the reasons he had before now sounded very stupid. "Because...I'm an idiot ok. I shouldn't have done it. She's just a friend now Sara, but I was scared that you would take it badly. I know it was stupid of me. That's the only reason I swear."  
  
"Yeah right," She muttered bitterly.  
  
Nick didn't like the look on her face. A look he'd seen before when she talked about a man they both despised.  
  
"Sara, we're just friends. Nothing else is going on," He promised, but the look remained. It both upset and angered him to see her looking at him like that. "Don't you dare start comparing me to Hank. I'm not him. I'm nothing like him. Sara you know I wouldn't do anyth..."  
  
"Nick?"  
  
Grissom's voice travelled down the corridor, cutting Nick off in mid sentence. It was followed a few seconds later by the owner. He walked in, but stopped when he saw the faces mixed with pain and anger.  
  
"Am I interrupting something?" He asked cautiously.  
  
Nick was about to answer, but Sara got there first.  
  
"No," She responded coolly.  
  
Grissom had a feeling that her tone was directed more at Nick then himself. It was obvious that they'd been fighting, a serious argument at that, but he didn't know what about. Two of his CSIs falling out was the last thing he needed right now.  
  
'But Nick and Sara will sort it out,' He assured himself. 'They always do.'  
  
He decided to ignore the thick tension in the room and get to his point.  
  
"Found anything Nick?" He asked, a small gleam of hope staining his voice.  
  
"No. Sorry Gris," He answered, but his tone lacked any sympathy.  
  
Gris sorely wanted to have a go at them for letting their personal lives effect their professional, but he knew it was the last thing any of them needed.  
  
"Well, Al's finished the autopsy," Grissom informed him.  
  
"Ok, I'll meet you there in a moment," Nick replied, but his eyes remained on Sara, who didn't look back.  
  
"Ok," Grissom said and took his cue to leave.  
  
"I'm going home," Sara announced icily after Grissom had left.  
  
Nick grabbed her arm to stop her, forcing her to look at him. He swallowed hard; hating the stony glare she was giving him.  
  
"Look Sara, can we talk about this?" He asked in a pleading tone. "I'll come by your place after wor..."  
  
"I'm exhausted," She lied, cutting him off, "I'm just gonna crash."  
  
And with that, she freed herself from his grasp and walked to her car. She turned on the ignition and started her journey home; to a bed that held nothing for her than coldness and insomnia.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
It was a miracle that Warrick received no speeding tickets as his car flashed along the road. Now he hurried on foot down the small corridor to the single door, completing his journey. Quickly, he rapped on the door. His anxious anticipation gripped him tightly.  
  
He knew that she was checking who it was through the peephole, before he heard the slid of the locks being undone. The door opened to reveal the figure behind it.  
  
She was dressed in pj bottoms and a grey tank top, her hair still ruffled from restless sleep and her face exhausted. But that wasn't what worried him. The fear and vulnerability that clung to her eyes along with unshed tears was what made Warrick concerned. She stepped aside letting him enter, then quickly re-bolted the door.  
  
"I'm sorry for waking you..." She began but he cut her off.  
  
"It doesn't matter," He assured, his voice revealing his concern along with his look. "Jenny what's wrong? Is everything ok? Is Melissa alright?"  
  
"She fine," Jenny chocked back a tear, "It's just...just..."  
  
She felt her strength fail her and her knees buckle underneath her. Warrick caught her in his strong arms, pulling her into a secure embrace as she cried into his chest. He tried to sooth her as he led her the couch, sitting them both down.  
  
"It's ok Jen," He promised softly. "Everything's ok."  
  
He continued to hold her close to him, trying to fight away her fears by his embrace. After a few minutes, she pulled away, wiping her eyes and running a hand through her hair.  
  
"God, I'm sorry Warrick," She apologised sheepishly.  
  
"It's ok. Are you going to tell me what's wrong now?"  
  
"It's so stupid..." She mumbled turning away.  
  
"It's not if it's got you worked up like this," He stated, squeezing her arm gently.  
  
She turned back and stared into his understanding eyes.  
  
"I had that dream again Warrick. Oh god," She paused to fight away another rush of tears. "It starts like the one when my dad dies, except I run outside to him after he's stabbed. Then suddenly he wakes up and takes my hand, but I'm no longer 12, I'm like I am now. He leads me to my old house and points to a window. I look in and see Ethan about to drink the poisoned bourbon....I'm screaming, god I scream, but he doesn't hear me and I'm forced to watch him die. Then my father whispers to me: 'You couldn't save me. You couldn't him. How do you expect to save her?' But it's not his voice, it's Julian's and I turn around to see him standing over Melissa's cot with a knife..."  
  
Her voice trailed off as her tears managed to break free. Warrick wrapped his arm around her, wiping away her tears with his hand.  
  
"Shhhh. It's alright Jen. Julian can't ever hurt you ok. And I'm never going to let anything happen to you or Melissa, I promise," He reassured her.  
  
She wiped her face and let out a forced chuckle.  
  
"God I'm being so stupid. And I've got you all wet."  
  
"It's really ok. I've told you before if you need me then I'll be there. Anyway, you needed someone to cheer you up. You don't look quite so beautiful with blotchy eyes."  
  
She chuckled lightly, which was the sweetest sound to Warrick's ears. They held each other's gaze, mesmerised as something passed between them. As much as he denied it to everyone, and even himself, he'd fallen completely in love with her. He loved her more then anything else and cared for Melissa as if she was his own daughter. But Jenny Sinclair's heart still belonged to her husband; the pain of his death still killed her softly inside.  
  
He broke the gaze before he did something he'd regret. She failed to stifle a yawn and he smiled.  
  
"You need to get some sleep," He pointed out.  
  
"I don't think I can," She admitted quietly. "I'm scared I'll have that nightmare again if I do and I can't take any sleeping tablets because of Melissa."  
  
"Ok, how about we watch a film for a bit?" He suggested.  
  
"Sure," She nodded.  
  
"What do you want to what?"  
  
"Mmmm.....how about Breakfast At Tiffany's?"  
  
"How many times have you seen that film?" He teased.  
  
She laughed, "So many times I've lost count. I used to watch it constantly when I was pregnant and now if I sing Melissa 'Moon River' she's out like a light."  
  
He laughed as well, "Breakfast At Tiff's it is."  
  
He got off the couch, turned on the TV and slid the DVD into the player. He settled back down on the couch beside her. Jenny curled up next to him with her head resting on his shoulder, and he wrapped a protective arm around her as if it was the most natural thing in the world.  
  
It didn't take long for her tiredness to catch up with her. Her eyelids drooped as she fell asleep, ending up with her head resting comfortably on Warrick's lap. He smiled at the gorgeous woman's sleeping form. He began to reluctantly stand up- so he could carry her into her room- but a hand grasped his wrist, stopping him. He looked down at Jenny, who still had her eyes tightly clasped shut.  
  
"Please don't leave me," She pleaded semiconsciously, her voice so vulnerable.  
  
"I'm not going anywhere," He assured her softly, stroking her hair tenderly.  
  
She let go and shifted slightly in her sleep. Warrick looked around and spotted a throw rug on the other seat. Careful not to wake her, he leaned over, clasping it in his fingertips, then gently covering her body with it.  
  
He allowed himself the guilty pleasure of watching her sleep, her face peaceful in her deep slumber. Keeping an arm around her, he lent down and kissed her softly on the forehead. The action caused the corners of her lips to turn upwards in a small smile making his heart soar. He continued to watch over her until sleep claimed him as well.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Grissom waited for Nick outside the doors leading to the morgue. He saw Nick's troubled face, but before he could ask what was wrong, the younger CSI had brushed past him through the doors. Gris followed him to be greeted by Portia Hrubeck's naked body lying on the slab, covered by a sheet.  
  
He gazed sadly at her, his guilt clouding his mind again. Gris broke his gaze and instead fixed it on Al Robbins.  
  
"What can you tell us?" Grissom asked, deciding to cut straight to the chase. "Is it the same as the other victims?"  
  
Al gave a curt nod, "Miss Hrubeck had 5 litres of water in her lungs, a blue tint around her mouth from loss of oxygen and bruising on the back of her neck from when she was held under. Also, like the other victims, she's got bruising round her wrists from the restraint he kept her in and she was starved."  
  
He pointed to the bruising as he talked so they could see.  
  
"Was she raped?" Nick asked the question Grissom couldn't bring himself to do.  
  
"Yes, but this is the only way she differs from the others. He raped her twice."  
  
"Twice," Grissom repeated sickened.  
  
Once again Al nodded.  
  
"I've collected a semen sample like before," He informed them, "But we already know that he's not on the data base."  
  
"Anything else?" Grissom pleaded more then asked.  
  
Al shook his head grimly; "I wish there was Gil, but there isn't. He scrapped under her nails, washed her hair and skin, even scrapped her inside her nose. I can't give you something I don't have."  
  
Grissom felt like he was sinking again.  
  
"Nick give the semen sample to Greg. Then you can go home," He ordered.  
  
Before anyone else could speak, he turned around and walked out. Away from Portia's haunting figure - reminding him that he'd fail someone else yet again.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
He sat in his office staring in frustration at the case files in front of him. Grissom looked at each victim in turn: First, Faith Water- prostitute, then Leyna Yashin- prostitute, Joanna Holm- stripper, and now Portia Hrubeck- stripper.  
  
4 women. 4 white dresses. 4 identical abductions and deaths. 4 secondary crime scenes. And not a single clue or lead closer to their killer.  
  
Gris let out a heavy sigh and shoved the pictures back into their folders. He yanked opened his desk draw and pulled out the small black box that lay inside. Sitting perfectly still, he turned it in his hands and placed it down on his desk. He stared at it. It had been in his draw for a while now. 3 weeks to be exact. 3 weeks since he'd been thinking about it, then this caught his eye like some sort of sign. Now all he needed was the perfect moment to give it to her. But now was not the time. It never was the time.  
  
He placed it away, hitting the lights off as he left the deserted labs and started the dreaded journey he'd put off as long as he could from making. He paused under the light outside his front door. Moments like these pass so slowly with the grim knowledge of what came next, that it began to slowly tear a man's sole apart.  
  
'The nature of bad news infects the teller,' He remembered the Shakespeare quote bleakly.  
  
He turned the key in the lock and walked in. She sat on the couch, staring at the door, waiting apprehensively for his return. For the news she knew she didn't want, but had to hear. One look at his face confirmed her fears. That night the peaceful townhouse was filled with Catherine's sobs of anguish and Grissom's whispers of soothing words, as he held her securely in his arms, trying to rid her of her sorrow.  
  
A/N: What do you think? I'm in for a very busy and boring weekend this week, so please leave a review and give me something to smile about. :o) 


	4. Shocking Discoveries

Disclaimer: I still don't own this.  
  
A/N: Sorry I took longer updating, but I explained why before. Thanks to all of you who reviewed the last chapter: gilcathlover, Jen, A Bloom, cRaZyPiXiE, MissyJane, The Madhatter, Charming-Storm and Moose. You guys are great. Please keep them coming. I'm really nervous, because tomorrow I'm performing a new play on stage for the first time and I'm still stuffing up my solo and dance :o( Oh well, I hope it's alright on the night (well afternoon). Please leave a review, cos I could do with something to smile about. Only a few weeks left of school, so hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently. R&R and ENJOY!!! - Bex  
  
Warrick stirred from his sleep; blinking around himself in confusion, until he remembered the events of the night before. Smiling, he looked down at the stunning woman still asleep on his lap. Jenny's face was so peaceful and relaxed that he knew she hadn't had any more nightmares: he'd prevented that. He allowed himself the guilty luxury of watching the fragmented light - which had broken through a gap in the curtains - dance softly on her face. Slowly, she woke and her eyes fluttered open. She looked up at him looking down at her and smiled.  
  
"Morning," She whispered.  
  
"Morning," He replied in the same hushed tone.  
  
She sat up and ran a hand through her hair to calm it, then straightened her top. Warrick watched her, mesmerized by every movement.  
  
He realised what he was doing and coughed self-consciously.  
  
"How was your sleep?" He asked quickly.  
  
"A lot better," She responded, her wide smile still playing on her lips. "Especially seeing as I had my guardian angel to protect me."  
  
Their eyes locked again and the same electricity as the night before passed between them. It was getting stronger. Warrick knew that it was only a matter of time before something happened.  
  
And it did - Melissa's cries came bounding down from her room, shattering the moment. Jenny's mothering instincts took over and she leaped to her feet.  
  
She smiled slightly at Warrick. "Sounds like someone else is up," She said before heading towards Melissa's room.  
  
Warrick ran a hand over his face and slumped back into the couch. That had been too close. He was in love with someone he shouldn't be in love with. Someone who wasn't ready to be loved. Yet it was so hard not to.  
  
'What am I going to do?' He asked himself.  
  
He leaned over to the coffee table where he'd placed his mobile the night before and switched it on. After warming up, the screen filled with the message 'You have 11 missed calls'; and if by taking a cue, it rang again.  
  
"Brown," Warrick answered.  
  
"Warrick where the hell have you been?" Demanded the familiar voice of Catherine. "I've been trying to reach for the past half hour. Where the hell would you be, other then home, at 6.30 in the morning?"  
  
He took a breath; "I'm at Jenny's."  
  
"Again?"  
  
"She needed a friend."  
  
"Warrick- " She began but he cut her off.  
  
"So we've got a case?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
She gave him the address and he noted it down.  
  
"Get here quickly Warrick," She ordered before hanging up.  
  
He sighed and shoved his mobile away.  
  
"After I've fed this little one breakfast, how about I fix us some?" Asked a voice behind him.  
  
Warrick turned around to see Jenny there with Melissa in his arms. Her smile widened when Melissa gurgled in delight on seeing him. Her wedding ring caught the light as she held her husband's daughter; reminding Warrick that even though she was so close, she was still just out of reach. His heart sunk, but he managed to force a smile back at her. He crossed over and stroked Melissa's tiny face.  
  
"Hey sweetie. Hey there." He smiled as her petite fingers clasped one of his and she giggled.  
  
"So what about breakfast?" Jenny asked again.  
  
Warrick's smile faded. "I have to go."  
  
"Oh." Her smile fell as well. "Work?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"And you can't even stay for a quick bite?"  
  
He shook his head; "No, I'm needed now. Sorry."  
  
"It's ok," She reassured, thought she looked disappointed.  
  
"Look, how about you come to the lab around 12.30 and I'll take you both out for lunch on my break?" Warrick suggested.  
  
Her face brightened. "You sure?"  
  
"Yeah. Would I ever pass up a chance to spend time with my two favourite girls?"  
  
He held her happy gaze, her smile was so infectious that he couldn't help but return it. He kissed Melissa and then Jenny on the forehead.  
  
"I'll see you then?"  
  
"See you then. Bye Warrick and thank you," She said to him as he left.  
  
He gave her one last smile before walking out of the door. Away from the source of confusion in his heart.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Any thoughts of Jenny and how to deal with his growing emotions soon fled Warrick's head as he pulled up to the crime scene to find Cath waiting. Under her glare, he couldn't help but see the tiredness and sorrow. He quickly grabbed his kit and climbed out of the vehicle to join her.  
  
"Thank god you're finally here," She snapped as he approached her.  
  
He was taken aback by this and studied her face in confusion. Then it dawned on him what it must be. In all of his confused thoughts about his relationship with Jenny, he'd completely forgotten what last night was. He felt a twang of guilt serge through his stomach.  
  
"They found Portia didn't they?"  
  
It was more of a statement then a question. Cath could only manage a tiny nod before her grief broke through. Warrick held her, wishing - like he did for Jenny - that fate had never given them this sorrow in the first place.  
  
"You ok?" Warrick asked when she pulled away. "You sure you can handle this?"  
  
Cath wiped her eyes and gave him a brave smile.  
  
"Yeah. I need something to take my mind off things."  
  
"Yeah?" He checked.  
  
"Yeah," She confirmed, touched by her friend's concern.  
  
"Do her kids know yet?"  
  
Her smile vanished. "No. I'm going to go over there and tell them after we've finished checking this crime scene."  
  
"You want me to come with you?" Warrick offered.  
  
"No, it's ok. Gil's meeting me there. Thanks all the same." She smiled slightly and decided to change to subject; "So why were you at Jen's?"  
  
"She had that dream again. I guess she needed to see a friendly face."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"What does 'oh' mean Catherine?" Warrick questioned suspiciously.  
  
"I know you two are getting really close and I know you care a lot about her -"  
  
"We're just friends Cath," He cut her off. "Only friends."  
  
"All I'm saying is that her husband's only been dead for just over a year. She's still grieving. Just be careful for both of your sakes," She warned as they walked towards the crime scene.  
  
"I will. But you have nothing to worry about," He lied as much to himself as to her.  
  
She didn't look convinced, but decided to drop the subject. She lead him down an ally between two warehouses, where the area around a large industrial dumpster had been squared off by yellow tape. Sergeant O'Riley was waiting for them there.  
  
"Hey," Catherine greeted him with a smile that he returned.  
  
"Hey Cath. Warrick." He nodded to each in turn.  
  
"What have you got for us?" Warrick asked.  
  
"A guy dumping his trash reported it in. Our John Doe's been dumped in with the trash, but get this, his hands are missing along with half of his face."  
  
Cath climbed up onto the stepladder and peered into the dumpster. The vile stench of rubbish and dried blood stung her nose. She covered her nose and mouth with a hand, then studied the body.  
  
"You're right, his hands are gone. Looks like the C.O.D was a slashed throat, but he's covered in a hell of a lot of blood. And someone's also slashed up his face." She turned her head to look at Warrick, "Do you want to take the picture or shall I?"  
  
"Be my guest," He answered handing over the camera.  
  
After she finished taking the picture he help her down.  
  
"So what are you thinking? Mafia?" He asked.  
  
She shook her head. "Don't think so. Mafia usually remove the head. But who did this one thing's for sure; the state this guy's been left in, he pissed them off badly."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Catherine sat in the stationary car with her hands gripping the wheel, frozen in place. She stared ahead in some sort of conscious sleep at the apartment block that loomed ahead. The tall building cast a shadow on the street below like a nightmare. Fear held her in place. The fear of being the messenger of bad news. For being the person who was going to let the new effect two innocent children, destroying their false image that the world was not such a bad place. Destroying their lives and hopes.  
  
She was too lost in her daze to realise that Grissom had approached the Tahoe. It wasn't until he opened the door that she even register that he was there. Catherine turned to look at him; fresh tears streamed down her checks, her face plagued with loss and confusion. Seeing her like this broke his heart and it pained him. He pulled her into his arms and allowed her to shed more tears in grief for Portia's death.  
  
"It's alright Cath. It's going to be ok," He soothed. "Are you sure you want to do this?"  
  
She nodded. "I owe them this."  
  
She pulled away, sniffing and wiping her eyes. She inhaled deeply and offered Gris a weak smile.  
  
"You would have thought I would have gotten a grip by now."  
  
"Well, every one can master a grief but he that has it," He quoted.  
  
"Shakespeare?"  
  
"Shakespeare," He confirmed.  
  
He took her hand and helped her out. Their fingers entwined together as they walked towards the building. Cath held his hand tightly, glad that he was with her giving her the strength she desperately needed. She didn't know what she would do with out him. She couldn't remember how she coped before she met him. It was like she was never really living before she met Gil Grissom. Amazing how a man who's life revolved around death could bring her soul to life and show her what she'd been missing. In his eyes she was complete and it was only when she was drowning in them did she feel that way as well.  
  
Brass was waiting for them outside the apartment door. He greeted them with a grim nod and thin smile. No one ever wanted to give this type of news to children. If the team had their way: no one ever would need to. He knocked on the door and Catherine moved her hand from Grissom's, still comforted by his presence.  
  
In the doorway stood Portia's younger and only sister. Unlike her sister, Maura Osler was married and ran a florist - a respectable lifestyle unlike Portia. The two siblings had fallen out about three years ago, just after Abby had been born. Maura's husband, Adam, always looked down his nose at Portia and the two couldn't stay two minutes in a room together before launching into a shouting match.  
  
Maura's hair was a darker shade of her sisters, but shorter, and her eyes didn't seem as striking. She was definitely smaller and didn't posses the same kind of confidence as Portia.  
  
Her sad eyes landed on Catherine and she nodded in understanding. Cath hugged her as she cried, her own eyes misting over.  
  
"I'm so sorry Maura," She told her.  
  
"Not as sorry as I am. I should have made an effort to sort out our relationship," Maura sobbed. "She was right when she said my husband was bang out of line for calling her an unfit mother. I just wish I'd admitted it before."  
  
She brushed away her tears and straightened up.  
  
"What's going to happen to the girls?" Cath asked.  
  
"When we've finished sorting everything out here, they're coming back to L.A to live with me and Adam," Maura informed her. "They're in the living room. They've been waiting for you, do you want to go in and see them now?"  
  
Cath gave a numb nod and Maura led them the three of them to the living room.  
  
Marie sat on the couch, braiding her sister's hair two plats. Over the past two years, Maura's hair had been ever colour of the spectrum; now resigning at a purple so dark that it was almost black. It had been cut into a choppy boyish style, that dried within tem minutes of getting wet, but right now it was dull from going three days without washing. Her eyes were swirled with green, grey and blue, and her ears had been pierced three times each. She wore a frumpy blue T-shirt; with an orange square that had a black cross through it and the 'Irritant' written underneath in bold, along with a pair of baggy purple cords. Her wrists and neck were usually covered in plastic beaded jewellery, but now remained bare.  
  
Abby was a beautifully innocent and sweet. Her hair was a shade of blond you'd only expect to see on an angel and her sapphire eyes were the same. And something about her appearance was familiar to Catherine, but it wasn't inherited from her mother. A smile spread across the young girl's lips when she saw Catherine, oblivious to these people's visit meant.  
  
"Aunty Cath!" She squealed and ran over to hug her.  
  
Marie's eyes snapped towards Catherine.  
  
"Have you found mum?"  
  
This was the way it was with young people - they never believed what they see until a person they trust confirms it. It was killing Cath to look into the girl's hopeful eyes knowing that she was about to shatter it.  
  
"I'm so sorry Marie. I'm so sorry...." Her voice faded away as Marie burst into tears.  
  
She pulled her into her embrace, tears running down her own cheeks as well. Abby, who was too young to understand, started to wail with confusion and scared sobs.  
  
"Where's mummy? I want mummy!" She howled.  
  
Catherine and Marie pulled her into the hug. The three of them held each other tightly, as if they need each other to hang onto life itself. Minutes passed before they broke apart.  
  
"I'm so sorry," Cath told Marie softly. "We tried our hardest to find her, but the killer made sure we had no leads. But he's not going to get away with this. I swear I'm not going to stop looking until he's found."  
  
Marie nodded.  
  
"I know," She whispered. "What happens now?"  
  
"Your Aunt is going to sort things out here, then you and Abby are going to move in with her and husband in L.A."  
  
"I don't want to live with that asshole. He called mum a cheap whore," She snapped.  
  
Cath nodded in mutual dislike for the man. Her eyes fell upon Abby. She knew Marie's father had left the country with another woman, but Portia refused to tell her who Abby's father was. All she knew was the child was a result of a drunken one-night-stand.  
  
"Marie, do you mind if Abby leaves the room for a bit?" She asked the teenager.  
  
"Ok," She turned to her sister, "Abby can you do me a big favour? Can you go in the kitchen with Aunty Maura for a bit?" The younger girl nodded. "Good girl."  
  
When Abby was safely out of earshot, Cath turned to the older girl and asked her question; "Marie, do you know who Abby's father is?"  
  
The teen hesitated. "Mum made me promise not to tell."  
  
"It's important that you tell me Marie," Cath pushed.  
  
"She said if you knew then you wouldn't love her anymore."  
  
Cath gave her a confused look.  
  
"Sweetheart, nothing could ever stop me loving or caring for you and Abby," She promised.  
  
The girl still looked uneasy and unconvinced. She stared into Catherine's reassuring eyes and made her decision.  
  
"Abby's dad is...was..." Marie took a deep breath. "He was Eddie."  
  
A/N: What do you think? I'm not gonna know unless you tell me, so hit that button NOW! Lol! :o) 


	5. Never Runs Smooth

Disclaimer: Maybe I'll own this one day, but today sadly ain't that day.  
  
A/N: Hey all you wonderful people out there. Hope I wasn't too long updating this. Thankfully my play is finally over (Wahoo/sob!), and apart from a few minor hitches (like my friend taking 'break-a-leg' far too literally!) it went really well. I think I my have amazed some people but showing that I'm not as naff at dancing and singing as they thought! Well enough of my endless waffle and on with thanking the people who reviewed the last chapter: Elle, MissyJane, Charming-Storm and cRaZyPiXiE. You guys rule!!! Please keep them coming in. Now finally in this chapter I can actually claim something other then my O.Cs and that is the song lyrics I use. The song's called 'Stranger Then Your Average' and I actually wrote all the lyrics myself! If you want to check out the entire song then it's posted up on fiction press. Hope you like the song. Feedback on it would be great cos it's my first attempt at writing song lyrics. Anyway on with the story. I would like to stress that I DO NOT possess a forensic degree so I'm sorry if I've got any of it wrong. Well R&R and ENJOY!!! - Bex  
  
Warrick walked into Greg's lab after he'd arrived back. He was incredibly irked that another crime scene had appeared in Las Vegas without a single piece of evidence apart from DNA of the John Doe.  
  
'Have all these killer's gone out a got themselves a degree in forensics or something?' He thought grimly.  
  
The first thing, which hit him on entering the lab, was the noise. As usual, Greg's CD player was blaring out music at full blast and he watched as the younger lab tech was too busy dancing to notice him.  
  
~ They put me in an asylum, But I drove the patients mad, And when they ask why I'm like this, I blame it all on my dad. I jumped out of a window, Just to see if I could fly, I don't wanna live any way, But I'm too afraid to die~  
  
His amused grin widened as Greg began to sing along, his own voice barely managing to be heard over the music.  
  
"I don't know why, I live my life this way. I guess I'm just another nutter, and there's nothing more I can say. If you still wanna hang around, there's one thing you must understand. Don't try and change me baby, cos I'm stranger then your average man."  
  
Finally, Warrick decided to make his presence known; "Sums you up perfectly Greggy."  
  
The lab tech spun round in shock and hit the stop button on the player as quickly as he could. Crimson slowly began to spread across his cheeks and Warrick couldn't help but laugh.  
  
"Hey Warrick. Been standing there long?" Greg asked sheepishly.  
  
"Just long enough to witness your wonderful performance."  
  
Greg blushed further and Warrick laughed again, causing Greg to glare at him.  
  
"So why are you here anyway? Got some evidence for me?" He questioned.  
  
Warrick's smile faded. "Nothing but a sample of DNA from our vic, so I'm praying for a match so we can find out who he is."  
  
"You're kidding me," Greg muttered. "Why do I feel like I'm stuck in a constant state of Déjà vu?"  
  
"Tell me about it," Warrick agreed as he handed over the DNA sample and perched on the edge of the desk. "I've just spent the past 40 minutes searching through trash to come back with nothing but DNA, which doesn't guarantee a match."  
  
"Well that explains the smell."  
  
Warrick's eyes widened and snapped up to stare at Greg.  
  
"I smell?"  
  
"No offence man, but ya stink."  
  
The CSI lifted up the top of his shirt to smell it; then dropped it very quickly and screwed up his noise in discussed.  
  
Greg smirked. "See what I mean."  
  
"Great, I'm meant to be having lunch with Jen and I'm supposed to be meeting Doc Robbins in the autopsy room in few minutes," Warrick sighed.  
  
The lab tech raised an interested eyebrow. "Sinclair's coming here?"  
  
Warrick nodded. "Along with Melissa."  
  
"Well then man, I suggest you take a shower and change your clothes."  
  
Something on the far table in the lab caught Warrick's attention. He stood up and crossed the room to where four identical white dresses were lain out in a row. The dresses from the victims of the other case. Greg noticed what Warrick was looking at and walked up next to him.  
  
"I was going over them again. You know, to see if there was anything I missed," Greg explained.  
  
"And did you find anything?" Warrick asked.  
  
Greg shook his head gloomily. "No. And I so wanted to find something for Catherine's sake."  
  
Warrick nodded in understanding. He knew the strain this case was causing and how everyone desperate wanted a result. And worse of all was the feeling it brought that they all despised: hopelessness.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
She gripped the side of the wall tightly as she felt the last of her strength leave her. Catherine's head was swimming with a thousand thoughts that made the world around her sway. But one thought managed to break free from the mass of the others: Abby was Eddie's child.  
  
"Catherine."  
  
The shout behind her made her force her head to turn and look. Grissom ran up to her, his blue eyes clouded with concern. He wrapped his arms around her and made the falling feeling she felt inside her soul cease.  
  
"Abby's father is Eddie, Gil, Eddie. Out of all the people in the world, in Las Vegas, why did it have to be him?" She sobbed into his chest.  
  
"Shhh. She told you it was a mistake," He reminded her. "And Portia was only human Cath, mistakes are our biggest flaw."  
  
"I know. But Eddie! She hated him. She slept with him and...and never told me! My ex-husband and she never told me."  
  
"I think she was scared Cath. So scared of hurting you. Scared of loosing you as a friend."  
  
She looked up at him with misted eyes. "She never would have Gil. Yeah, I may have hated her for a while, but nothing could stop me caring for her and the girls," She paused and her eyes widened as a sudden thought caught up with her. "Oh god, Marie! I just ran out. I only managed to keep it together for ten minutes before I just legged it. TEN MINUTES! I'm such a bitch."  
  
"No you're not," Grissom stated firmly. "And you'll never will be. I think Marie understands. She knew this would be a big shock for you. I promised her that you would see her and Abby before they left."  
  
Cath smiled. "Thanks. What would I do with out you?"  
  
He smiled and took her hand. "Do you want to take a walk?"  
  
"Maybe I should go ba-"  
  
He cut across, "Cath you're not going back to work until you're ready. Warrick can handle it."  
  
She sighed knowing that it wasn't worth a fight. "Yes boss."  
  
He smiled slightly as she rested her head on his shoulder. They began to walk away from the apartment block to a park near by, with his arm remaining placed securely around her waist.  
  
"I'm worried about him Gil," She told him quietly.  
  
"Who? Warrick?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Oh why?"  
  
"He was late for work once more, because he was at Jenny's again."  
  
"Oh. And you think he's falling for her?" He questioned.  
  
She looked up at him. "Don't you?" He nodded and she rested her head back down. "She's not ready. I know she's not. She still wears her wedding ring. I mean if we were married and I died, you wouldn't take off your wedding ring till you were ready to move on would you?"  
  
He stopped and caught her gaze. "I doubt I would every take it off then."  
  
She smiled faintly and blushed slightly. She took him by the hand again and they continued to walk through the park.  
  
"Didn't you mention something about Sara and Nick fighting?" Cath inquired.  
  
He nodded. "The course of true love never did run smooth."  
  
"Shakespeare?"  
  
"Shakespeare. Care to guess which play?"  
  
She paused in though for a moment. "A Midsummer Night's Dream?"  
  
He laughed. "You learn well."  
  
She returned the chuckle. "I have a good teacher. Besides, it was the play you took me to see on my birthday. He was right though, Shakespeare, it doesn't run smooth. The road of true love has one hell of a load of rock in it. Just look at us. How long did it take us to get together?"  
  
"Far too long," He murmured as he kissed her head. "They'll sort it out in the end like us Cath. They all will."  
  
"I hope you're right."  
  
"I don't have a doubt that I'm wrong."  
  
She stopped and looked up at him, grateful that he was with her. Grateful that by his side was the only place she would ever be. She leaned in and brushed her lips against his; the chemistry between them never faded.  
  
"I love you," She whispered.  
  
"I love you to." He brought a hand to her face and cradled her chin. "You want to go back now or keep walking?"  
  
"I want to stay with you just a bit longer," She confessed.  
  
"Your wish is my command. It's unwise to deny the request of a lady so beautiful."  
  
She laughed and kissed him again. They stood there smiling at each other for a few minutes before he wrapped a protective arm around her and they started to their leisurely walk again. All other things - for that moment - were left forgotten.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The case file was flung violently back down onto the table from where it had lain originally. Sara glared at it in frustration and slumped back into her chair in the break room. She'd hardly gotten any sleep the night before and going over the case was just agitating her further. It wasn't the case that had kept her up; it was Nick. The feeling of hollowness the fight last shift had left inside her. She thought that maybe if she found something they missed in case, it would help fill the hole. Instead it had made it bigger.  
  
"Penny for your thoughts?"  
  
Sara turned her head to look at the owner of the voice. There in the doorway stood Jenny Sinclair. She was wearing a light beige, fitted shirt and long denim skirt along with high-heeled sandals. And safely in her arms was Melissa. It had amazed Sara how quickly she had regained her slim figure after giving birth. Her friend smiled at her, but a hint of worry remained in her expression.  
  
"Hey," She greeted and stood up to embrace her. "Hi there," She cooed at Melissa and stroked the infant's head.  
  
"So are you going to tell me what's wrong or am I'm going to have to guess why you look like suicide on legs?" Jen asked.  
  
Sara sighed, "It's Nick."  
  
Jenny's face fell. "Oh god, what happened? You guys didn't have a fight did you?"  
  
She nodded miserably. "His ex's coming back to town today and I didn't find out until last night, and even then I had to force it out of him."  
  
"Are you sure that he wasn't planning on telling you?"  
  
"I don't think he was."  
  
Jenny thought about this for a moment. "Maybe he was just scared about how'd you react. Worried that he'd start a fight."  
  
"Well he successes in doing that," Sara scoffed.  
  
"Sar, he's probably has an explanation, maybe not a great one, but an explanation to why he felt the need to kept it from you. You've just got to remember that men are idiots and give him a chance to explain."  
  
Sara smiled at her friend, amazed about how she seemed to have an answer for everything. Then her eyes narrowed into a look of confusion.  
  
"What are you doing here anyway?"  
  
"Warrick is taking me and Melissa out to lunch," Jenny explained with a smile. "Do you know where he is?"  
  
"I can fill you in there."  
  
Both women turned to see Greg entering the room. He grinned widely at Jenny and walked over to hug her.  
  
"Hey there Jen. And how's my beautiful wee lass doing?" He asked in a horrendously terrible Scottish accent as he tickled Melissa's chin.  
  
The youngster giggled happily as she tried to grab Greg's fingers. She then managed to grasp Greg's nose and he made a beeping noise every time she repeated the action. Melissa squealed in delight and clapped her hands. Both her mother and Sara were laughing at the display.  
  
"Man Greg, how does it feel to know that even a 6 month old kid finds your stupidity amusing?" Sara teased.  
  
Greg faked a hurt look and childishly stuck out his tongue at her, causing the others to laugh more.  
  
"So, where is Warrick?" Jenny asked after the laughing had calmed down.  
  
"Last time I saw him, he was in the autopsy room," Greg replied, then gave Jenny a questioning look after he spotted the clock on the wall, "Aren't you early?"  
  
"Only by about half an hour," She defended, "I was bored and thought I would come here to see if I could be of use. So he's in the autopsy room?"  
  
"Yep with our dumpster John Doe. No DNA match. No hands. And get this - his teeth have been removed as well."  
  
"Ouch," Sara commented.  
  
"Oh and guess what - no evidence either."  
  
"You're joking!" Sara muttered. "Not again."  
  
Jenny remained silent as she looked as if she was considering something. Then she turned to Sara.  
  
"You mind looking after Melissa whilst I find Warrick?" She asked.  
  
"Sure," Sara smiled as she was handed the small baby.  
  
"Thanks. I'll be back soon."  
  
Sara watched Greg stare after Jenny as she walked off. His look revealed his obvious and inappropriate crush. Sara sighed.  
  
"Greg," She warned sternly.  
  
"What?" He asked as innocently as possible.  
  
"You know what. She's out of bounds."  
  
"I know. Anyway Gris would kill me if I was to hit on her, not to mention Warrick."  
  
"What do you mean?" Sara inquired as she hugged the infant.  
  
"Oh come on Sar, don't tell me you haven't work it out by now," Greg demanded. "Our Warrick's obviously in love with her. It's as obvious as you and Nick, and Cath and Gris. If we've got anyone to worry about it's him, not me."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Warrick stared at the body lying on the slab in front of him. He'd remained in the autopsy room for the past hour, just looking at the John Doe in some lam attempt to find discover something new. But this guy was nothing more then a mystery.  
  
"Who are you?" He mumbled to the corpse. "Who are you and how did you end up here?"  
  
"I hope you aren't expecting a decent answer, 'cause the dead suck at hold a conversation," quipped a teasing voice behind him making him jump.  
  
He spun round and a smile lit up his features on seeing Jenny. She smiled back at him.  
  
"Hey."  
  
"Hey. You're early," He stated.  
  
"I know."  
  
"Where's Melissa?"  
  
"I left her with Sara. So how's the interrogation of this guy going? Got anything out of him?" She teased as she pointed at the body.  
  
He laughed. "Only a whole load of more unanswered questions."  
  
She walked up beside him to study the corpse. After a few moments her eyes turned back to Warrick.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Our John Doe was found in a dumpster by some warehouses. By his liver temp, Doc determined that he'd only been there for about 20 minutes before he was discovered. His face had been cut up, and hands and teeth removed post mortem. The C.O.D was a slashed throat," He filled in. "No match for DNA and no other means to ID him. Nor any clues to where he was killed or who did it."  
  
Jenny was silent as she took this in and turned her gaze back to the body. Then, after a few moments, she spoke again. "You know there is a chance we have a print," She stated, "Where's the one place on the male anatomy that a guy touches themselves at least once a day, especially when they're taking a pee?"  
  
He followed her downwards gaze and his eyes landed on the man's covered groin area. He then turned back to Jenny who met his eyes with a playful look.  
  
"Jen, the guy's been dead for about 6 hours," He pointed out. "Even if he'd touch his penis close to his time of death, there's only a slim chance that a decent print will still be there."  
  
"Ah but there is a chance. And a chance is always worth taking when you've got nothing to loose," She retorted. Then her playful look returned. "So War, do you want to do the honours or shall I?"  
  
He handed her a pair of gloves and stepped aside.  
  
"Ladies first."  
  
"Always a gentleman," She smirked.  
  
Her smile vanished as she concentrated at the task at hand. Warrick watched her, fascinated by her professional manner. It was almost as if she'd been doing this job the whole of her life. After a couple a minutes, she let out a triumphant laugh.  
  
"HA! I've got a print," She exclaimed.  
  
"You're kidding me!" Warrick said stunned as he looked over at the copy of the print in her hand. He then looked at the large smile spread across her face and tried to beat it with one of his own. "Sinclair, you are amazing."  
  
She laughed. "Don't I know it! Come on; let's get this to Greg and then I think you owe me lunch. But first I need to wash my hand really, really well."  
  
A/N: What do you think? I writing this fic for you guys so your thoughts and opinions are very helpful. Well, you know the drill: give that little button a bashing! Lol! :o) 


	6. Waiting For New Leads

Disclaimer: Don't Own. Don't Sue. Do Review.  
  
A/N: Hey all. Sorry I took a bit longer updating this. I've finally finished school (Yay!) So I now have 5 glorious weeks of free time (Wahoo!), which is a heaven sent break after the load of work I was forced to complete. Thank you all who reviewed the last chapter: ArodLoverus2001, Galxychld, cRaZyPiXiE and MissyJane. You guys rock!!! Oh and cRaZyPiXiE: thanks for the suggestion but I'm not sure if I ready to add a baby into the mix of Nick and Sara's relationship at this point. But suggestions are always welcome. I've recently posted up two new sort CSI fan fics: 'Wake Up' and 'Fragmented', so feel free to check them out. Please keep them coming in. I should be took long updating the next chapter seeing as I finally have spare time (love that word). Anyway, R&R and ENJOY!!! - Bex  
  
Grissom and Catherine entered the building in comfortable silence. They were still joined at the hands, but that was really all the comfort they needed from the other. Grissom used this to slip back into his own thoughts. He wondered if another woman had been abducted; if the killer had chosen someone else to make their life hell as they desperately tried to find her in time. 'We're not going to fail this time,' He insisted to himself falsely. 'We're going to catch him.'  
  
The first thing he noticed as they entered the break room was Sara and Greg's laughter: the second was the baby that was being bounced up and down on Sara's knee. A baby that he recognised instantly. "What's Melissa doing here?" He asked making the others aware of his and Cath's presence.  
  
The laughter stopped as the CSI and lab tech looked at the other two with awkward eyes, whilst Melissa gurgled happily at the new comers she knew well. "Well?"  
  
"Jen's here," Sara finally answered.  
  
"Why is she here?" Cath inquired confused. But before the others could answers they were cut off by more laughter coming from outside the room, followed by Jenny and Warrick. They stopped when they spotted the others: Jenny's smile widening warmly and Warrick's fading.  
  
"Hey," Jenny greeted Gris and gave him a hug. She then turned to Catherine, but paused when she saw her expression. "Cath, what's wrong?" Then it dawned on her. "Oh god, Portia?" Cath gave a tiny nod in response and Jenny hugged her as she gave her condolences.  
  
After the two women had parted, Grissom turned his attention back to Jenny: "Not that it's not nice to see you Jen, but why are you here?"  
  
She gave him a puzzled look, then turned to Warrick. "Didn't you tell them?" He shook his head guiltily and Jenny gave him a small glare.  
  
"Tell us what?" Cath asked.  
  
"Warrick's meant to be taking me and Melissa out to lunch," She informed them.  
  
Both of the older CSIs fixed their eyes on Warrick with the same expression, as he looked at the ground to avoid their gaze. The tension was obvious to Melissa, who began to bawl. Sara's eye's widened in panic as became awkwardly unsure how to react. Jenny's took her child back into her arms and began to softly hum 'Moon River' whilst she rocked her. Quickly, the infant settled; Jenny looked up and mouthed to the others 'works every time', then her brow furred. "Maybe I should go."  
  
"Jen wait," Warrick called, stopping her. He turned to Cath. "It's not like I'm taking this lunch break without getting something done on the case first."  
  
He handed her a small evidence envelope. "What's this?"  
  
"A fingerprint from our vic. Which Jenny helped me to collect."  
  
It was now Greg's turn to look as confused as the others. "How did you manage to collect a fingerprint when the guy had no hands?"  
  
Jenny and Warrick averted their gaze, sharing quick sideways glances as they tried to contain their laughter. "Lets just say I washed my hands really well afterwards," Jenny replied cryptically.  
  
Their puzzled looks remained until one by one they realised where the print came from. "Oh," exclaimed Catherine and handed Greg the print. "You better go run this through AFIS and see if we've got a match."  
  
"Sometimes I really hate my job," He muttered as he walked off holding the envelope at arms length.  
  
"What about everything else we've got on this case?" Cath asked Warrick.  
  
"It's all in here," He replied handing her a file, "Everything we know so far."  
  
"Fine you can go. But make sure your phone's on and be back in an hour."  
  
"Thanks Cath." Warrick bright smile returned.  
  
Jenny hugged Cath first and whispered to her, "If you want to talk about anything, you know where to find me." Then she did the same to Sara, reminding her to give Nick a chance to explain. When she came to hug Grissom goodbye she whispered, "If you need help with the case you know how to reach me or Brit."  
  
He nodded. "I know." Gris kissed Jenny's and Melissa's cheek. "Take care of yourselves."  
  
"I will," She promised. "See you guys soon." And with that, Warrick and her left, whilst Melissa giggled and waved until she was carried out of sight.  
  
Catherine sighed and shot Grissom a look that read 'see what I mean', and then she began to briefly flick through the file. "I better look through this. Can I use your office?"  
  
"Sure," He agreed and squeezed her hand. "Are you sure you're ok?"  
  
Cath gave him a determined nod and a peak on the cheek before she headed off towards the office. When she had left; Grissom poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Sara. She took it and smiled gratefully in return. "So why are you here?"  
  
"I...I couldn't sleep," She replied vaguely. "Thought I'd make myself useful."  
  
"And did you or was your mind too busy focusing on something else? Or should I say someone?" He questioned and Sara shot him a startled look.  
  
"Is it really that obvious?" She murmured into her coffee cup.  
  
Gris nodded and then pointed at her mobile lying on the table. "Also the twenty odd missed calls on your phone, that you've placed on silent because you can't take the consent ringing, and that are all probably from the same person. Plus I managed to lip-read parts of what Jen was whispering to you. Nick?"  
  
She laughed bitterly. "When did you become even more observant?"  
  
"Since I've been spending more time around Brit and Jenny. Both of them believe that the small things are just as important - maybe even more - then the big things. And it begins to rub off on you." He then asked gently, "The problem between you and Nick isn't going to effect your work?" She shook her head and finished off the last of her coffee. "So how long have you been here?"  
  
"I think from about 7 this morning, after giving up on 5 hours filled with failed attempts to sleep," She answered after she paused to think.  
  
"Any news?" Grissom inquired tapping the case file. "Any word of a new victim?"  
  
"No," Sara shook her head. "Maybe he's decided to lay low?"  
  
"Or maybe it's too early for anyone to realise she's gone," He stated. "Portia only got reported quickly because of her kids realising she was missing."  
  
"How's Cath taking it?" Sara asked concerned for her friend.  
  
"Better then I expected."  
  
He pinched his bridge and took a good long sip of the bitter coffee. "Gris," Sara said, gaining his attention, "It wasn't your fault. I wasn't anyone's fault. Cath doesn't blame you. No one is."  
  
"And what we're meant to tell that to the next victim's family and friends and the one after that?" Grissom demanded misdirecting his anger at her. He saw the hurt in her face and his expression soften. "We've got to find him Sara. Before he can bring more pain and sorrow."  
  
"And we will," She said firmly. "You said it yourself, he's only human. He's got to have slipped up somewhere. And I can assurance that mistake will be his last. Where ever it is, we'll find it." Grissom returned her smile with a fainter one and she picked up the empty coffee cups. "How about I pour us another cup and then we go over the case again?"  
  
"Yeah," Grissom replied, happy that Sara persistence gave him the push he needed to face the case again. He glared down at the file on the table in front of him. 'Who ever you are, where ever you are, I'm not going to stop 'til I find you and bring justice for the all lives you've taken,' He silently told the faceless killer. 'I can guarantee that."  
  
A/N: What do you think? Come on, make me happier then I already am and hit that button NOW! I know you're itching to! :o) 


	7. Getting Nowhere Fast

Disclaimer: Don't Own. Don't Sue. Do Review.  
  
A/N: Hello there. I've recently and proudly become a member of the Graveyard Shift: so if anyone from there is reading this, a special 'Hi' to you :o)! Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter: Charming-Storm (x2), cRaZyPiXiE, ArodLoverus2001, MissyJane, Elle, pdhtgal, The Madhatter and SisterBear. You guys are da bomb!!! Please keep them coming and I'll keep writing. Oh and all you Warrick lovers will like this chapter for there is a lot of that man in it. Sadly still no Nick, but he'll be reappearing soon. Well R&R and ENJOY!!! - Bex  
  
Warrick watched Jenny as she wiped Melissa's face clean after they had finished eating. The waitress brought their coffees over and placed them down with a formal smile. "Can I get you anything else?"  
  
Warrick shook his head. "No thanks. Just the bill please."  
  
"Sure," She replied with another professional smile and left. Warrick watched Jenny attend to her child. He took the opportunity to consider what he was going to do. A smile played upon his lips as observing her with Melissa confirmed his instincts when she became pregnant: she made a perfect mother. She had been so worried that she'd be hopeless parent; but there was never a doubt in his mind at all.  
  
It took him a couple of minutes to realise that she'd been speaking to him. Instead of admitting he hadn't been paying attention; he gave her a vague nod and murmured and interested 'huh' into his coffee.  
  
But he didn't manage to fool her for a second: "You haven't been listening have you?"  
  
"Sure I have," He lied. She gave him an unconvinced look and he decided to come clean, "Ok, I haven't. Sorry."  
  
"It's ok. I was just rambling mindlessly as usual."  
  
"I like your mindless rambles," he replied with such seriousness that Jenny started to laugh. "No honestly, what were you saying?"  
  
"I got an e-mail from Estella."  
  
"How is she?" Warrick asked, remembering how she'd moved away after Jenny gave birth. Along with Jenny's ex-professor.  
  
"She's good. Still loves teaching at that school for the deaf. Always thought that she'd make a great teacher. Anyway, she thinks she might be pregnant and Prof- Edmund has asked her to marry him. They've already sent out the invites."  
  
"Really?"  
  
Jenny gave him a small nod and took a sip of her mocha. "Do you know how things are between him and Gris?" She inquired.  
  
"Better. Why do you ask?"  
  
"Just wondering if Gris and Cath have been invited. Estella wants me to be maid of honour and I was just hoping that there would be someone else there I know. I mean, Estella said I could bring a guest..."  
  
"I'll go with you if you want," He offered quickly.  
  
Her expression brightened. "Really? Are you sure..um.. Taylor wouldn't mind?"  
  
Warrick's face fell and he dropped his gaze. He'd only dated a few people after Jenny had entered his life; Taylor had been the most recent addition to the list of failures. "We broke up 'bout 4 weeks ago," He muttered.  
  
"Oh?" Jenny looked a bit surprised. "What happened?"  
  
'She accused me of being in love with someone else,' He thought to himself. 'She accused me of being in love with you. And she was right.' But he merely answered, "We had our differences."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry."  
  
There was an awkward pause. "So how's your love life?" Warrick asked without thinking. He immediately regretted those words when he saw the sorrow they caused on Jenny's face. "Sorry," He apologised gently.  
  
She looked down at her wedding ring in self-torment as she fiddled with it. "It was our anniversary last month. Would have been 5 years. I remember last year that he'd already paid for some roses before he died. That they were delivered on the day." Warrick recalled the incident all too well. How hysterical she'd become, and as he held her he couldn't help but wonder if the tears would ever stop. Tears like the ones swelling up in her eyes now. "I went to see him a couple of days ago..." Her voice trailed off.  
  
Warrick got up and sat down next to her. He hugged her. "I miss him," Jenny whispered so softly that he could barely hear her.  
  
"I know." He pulled back, wiped her cheeks and gently pushed a renegade strand of hair behind her ear. The moment was back again.  
  
"What an adorable baby!" In union, their heads snapped round. An old lady stood there admiring Melissa and smiled warmly at the pair. "She'd such a perfect child. You must be very proud parents."  
  
Warrick was about to correct her, but Jenny got there first: "Thank you." She glanced sideways at Warrick and gave him an apologetic smile; though he didn't mind in the slightest.  
  
"You're a very lucky man to have such a beautiful wife and daughter," She beamed at Warrick and walked off.  
  
'If only that were true,' He thought longingly as he watched her disappear.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Catherine was so engrossed in the case file; that the first time she was aware of someone else being in the room, was when a take-away coffee was placed on the desk in front of her. Her eyes travelled up to greeted by Warrick's smiling face. "Hey. They had such good coffee that I decided to bring you one. Also a sandwich, 'cause I'm guessing you haven't eaten," He told her placing the sandwich down and sliding them closer.  
  
Cath smiled in return and picked up the coffee. "Thanks." She sipped it and murmured in agreement. "Oh, Cesar salad. Classy! So how was lunch?"  
  
"It was good," He replied, adding quickly, "Jenny's coming over for breakfast tomorrow." Before swiftly changing the subject: "So do we have name for our handless John Doe?"  
  
"He's called Rick Tarantino," Cath said as she handed him a sheet and then set about opening her sandwich.  
  
"It's good to see what he looked like," Warrick commented as he scanned the profile. "Hang on. So our guy has prior convictions?"  
  
She nodded. "Attempted rape - which was dropped, and he just finished doing sometime for theft."  
  
"What a boy scout. I wonder what he did to get an ending like that?"  
  
"Have no idea. He was recently fired from his job at a grocery store. Apparently Mr Tarantino was sexually harassing the owner's daughter, but that's hardly a motive for murder."  
  
He sat down and stared at the profile, before sliding it back to Cath. "What else do we have?"  
  
"Other then the lack of evidence we found at the crime scene? Nothing?" Cath sighed. "No one has even reported this guy missing yet. I don't think anyone cares. And his killer has covered his track as well as-" She stopped abruptly and looked down.  
  
"Cath, you alright? Are you sure you should be here?" Warrick questioned gently.  
  
"I'll be fine. If I can't bring justice for Portia, then I might as well bring it for someone else. No matter what a scumbag he was." She ran a hand though her hair and took a thoughtful bite of her sandwich. "Maybe we should find out what this guy was like in prison?"  
  
"Sure," Warrick agreed. "And lets see what his last employer has to say." He stood up and smiled at her. "I'll get right on it.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"I'm surprise you haven't passed out yet." Sara turned round: glaring at Warrick over the top of her coffee, as she failed to hide another yawn. "You should get some sleep you know," He pointed out.  
  
She only glared at him again in response. Confused, Warrick sat down next to her. "Sar what's wrong?"  
  
"Did you know about Michelle?" She demanded.  
  
"Er..."  
  
"Did you War?"  
  
"Yes," He confessed, then added quickly before she could snap at him, "I told Nick to tell you, but..."  
  
"But?"  
  
"He didn't want to upset you. He was being a man and stupid. Nothing more. Just give him a chance to explain Sara."  
  
She smiled bitterly. "You've just said exactly the same thing as Jen."  
  
He shrugged. "Great minds think alike. So are you going to talk to him?"  
  
She gave him a tiny nod in response. "I'll go after I've finished here."  
  
"How is the case going?"  
  
"Nowhere," She sighed heavily. "We don't even know if he's got a new victim yet. I've just spent the past two hours ringing strip clubs, but none of them have noticed anyone missing. And if she's a prostitute-"  
  
"It's not like the pimp's going to become a saint and report it," He finished grimly for her. She nodded in agreement and sipped her coffee. "Do you want to help me and Cath for a bit?"  
  
It only took her a sort pause to decide: "Sure."  
  
A/N: What do you think? I writing this for you to read, so feedback is very welcome. That button's waiting to be hit; so go on and put it out of its misery! :o) 


	8. The Effect Of Words

Disclaimer: Still Don't Own. Please Don't Sue. Reviews Are Always Good! :o)  
  
A/N: I decided to be nice and make sure I updated this before I went away. For those of you who don't know, I'm off to Austria for two weeks!!! I'm very excited, because I've never been and I promise I'll update as soon as I'm back. Ok? Also all you N/S shippers should definitely check out the unfairly 'Truths' by adpi24, which should be reposted on Monday. It's an awesome fic and really shouldn't be missed. Also I'm posting my first-ever pure N/S fic 'Chain Reactions', so check that out too. Well thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter: MissyJane, ArodLoverus2001, J gard, krisnina77 and SisterBear. You guys rule!!! Keep them coming and I'll keep writing. Well R&R and ENJOY!! See you guys in two weeks - Bex :o)  
  
10 minutes: that's how long it had been since Grissom gave up on the case for the night, opened his desk draw and stared at the black box inside. He swore - as childish as it may have seemed - that it was tormenting him. As if the object was convinced that the only thing holding him back was his fear rather then the timing. All he had to do was to place it in his pocket, set the right mood - something romantic like an expensive restaurant - give her the speech he'd practised a thousand times in front of the mirror whilst she slept and....  
  
"Hi honey."  
  
Grissom jumped like a shot and swiftly slammed his desk draw. Then - trying to conceal how she's startled him - he smiled at Cath. "Hey. How's the case going?" He asked quickly.  
  
She sighed. "Hardly anywhere. Know the guy's name, record and that he's an ass, but other then that - zilch! His last employer and the prison guards didn't have glowing things to say about him, but we're no closer to knowing who did it and why."  
  
She sat down on the edge of his desk and ran a tired hand through her hair. Grissom moved closer and tenderly squeezed her hand. "But that's not it?" He questioned.  
  
She shook her head. "The killer discarded the evidence really well. We haven't got a thing at the secondary crime scene. He's like the guy who killed Por-" She stopped short and looked at Grissom with glazed eyes. "She never deserved this. Yeah, she was a lousy mother, but she tried. And when she screwed up, she always made an effort to make things right. And she was...was such a good friend. She was always there to watch my back. She didn't deserve this Gil. No one deserves this."  
  
Gris nodded in understanding. Gently, he reached up and pushed the tears from her cheeks. "I'm not going to stop until I find him," He promised.  
  
"I know. I still don't know what to do about Lindsey and Abby. Should I tell her or wait 'till Abby's older and tell them both?"  
  
"We'll tackle that when we come to it. Right now we need to focus on you," He told her firmly. "What do you want?"  
  
"Hold me," She requested quietly and Grissom opened his arms for her. Catherine sunk down onto his lap and he rapped his arm securely around her. He held her close as she rested her head against his chest.  
  
"I love you," He whispered and lovingly kissed her head, "More then anything else."  
  
A tiny smile tugged at her lips. "I know. And I love you too."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
'This is ridiculous,' Nick thought as he reached Sara's answering machine again. About 4 hours ago, he'd lost track of how many attempts he'd made to reach her and failed. Right now he had better communication with her machine and at least that wasn't pissed off at him. 'And who's fault is that Nick?' He snapped at himself. 'Why won't she give me a chance to explain?'  
  
He was just about to aimlessly pick up the phone and try again, when there was a knock at the door. His heart rose as he hurried to open it, praying it would be Sara - though he wondered why she didn't used the key he gave her. "Michelle!" He exclaimed at the woman standing outside his door.  
  
She smiled. "Expecting someone else cowboy?" She asked slyly. Her hair still fell in the shoulder-length chestnut curls; her eyes still dark chocolate and her smile just as enchanting. "You going to let me in or what?"  
  
Nick stepped aside to let her in and she waved a bottle at him as she passed. "Wine?"  
  
"Yep," She confirmed happily, handing it over. "Thought I should bring a peace offering."  
  
"I thought we agreed that there were no hard feelings," Nick reminded her.  
  
"Still, it shouldn't have ended the way it did. I shouldn't have treated you like that," Michelle said quietly, then her smile reappeared. "Want a glass?"  
  
"I shouldn't-" Nick began but she cut him off.  
  
"Come on Nicky," She whined playfully. "Your shift still starts at seven right? You have plenty of time."  
  
"Actually, I have the night off," He informed her.  
  
"Great," She beamed, "That way you won't have to call in sick if you have too much." He had to laugh with her and she eyed the small kitchen: "Are the glasses still in the same place?"  
  
For the next few hours they sat on the couch catching up; laughing and talking like old times. Every time his glass became empty she would fill it up again and he'd began to lose count. A small part of his mind nagged at him to stop; but it was quickly brushed aside with the next sip.  
  
"You and Sara, who'd have thought? She'd always seemed to have a crush on you," Michelle recalled as she topped up his half empty glass. "Never really seemed your type though."  
  
He took a sip. "Sara's great. She's smart, beautiful, caring and considerate. And, what can I say, I'm madly in love with her."  
  
"Sounds like she's quite something," Michelle muttered into her glass and edged closer. "Why did we break up Nick?"  
  
"I believe it was because you left me for Carl," Nick replied, bitter at the topic. "Something about still being in love with him and needing to give it another try. As I recall it, you called off the engagement and left Vegas with him a week later."  
  
She sighed dramatically. "God I was so stupid then. So stupid not to realise what a good thing I had with you. How good you were to me." As she spoke, she moved ever closer. "Do you ever think about us Nick? About how good we were together? About the chemistry? Do you Nicky?"  
  
The part of Nick's brain not dazed by alcohol was very aware of how close she was. Unsure what to say, he managed a faint nod instead.  
  
"I know I do," She whispered seductively in his ear. Alarm bells blared in his mind, warning him that this conversation was heading somewhere it shouldn't go. But before he could react, Michelle's lips were firmly on his.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Sara parked her SUV and checked her appearance in the mirror for the tenth time. 'Stop acting like a teenager on their first date,' She scolded herself. 'You're supposed to be mad at him.'  
  
But the words did no good; her stomach still swarmed with butterflies and hands were remained clammy. She sighed with irritation at her nervousness and forced herself out of the vehicle.  
  
In the end she'd been forced to park a block away from Nick's apartment, because there wasn't anywhere closer. Sara took this opportunity to consider how she would start. "Man, this is going to be awkward," She mumbled to herself. "What if....shut up Sidle, you're talking to yourself." She cringed at doing it again and mentally kicked herself.  
  
To her amazement, she soon found herself outside Nick's apartment. She pondered for several minutes whether to knock or use her key. Deciding that he probably didn't have company, she sighed and unlocked the door. And froze.  
  
On the couch in front of her, sat Nick kissing another woman. 'Well then,' She thought numbly, 'I guess should have knocked.'  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Nick angrily pushed Michelle away just in time to see a wisp of familiar brown hair disappear round the side of the open door. 'Oh shit,' He thought desperately, 'This is not good.'  
  
"Nick?" Michelle moaned in confusion, but he ignored her.  
  
He leapt to his feet - hell bent on going after her - when a hand grasped his arm. "Nick?"  
  
He snapped round and glared menacingly at Michelle. "Don't be here when I get back," He ordered and dashed out the door.  
  
Taking the steps two by two, it didn't take him long to rush outside. Out into the rain that had started. And when it rained here, desert always like to put on a show. He glanced around in the heavy down pour and gloom 'till he spotted her. "SARA!" he shouted after her, but she didn't slow her fast pace. Either she couldn't hear him above the storm or she didn't care.  
  
He took off in a lighting fast sprint and quickly caught up with her. "Sara," He repeated again and seized her arm. She flinched as if his touched burned, stinging him deeply inside. "Sara, please just listen-"  
  
She spun around. "No you listen to me. I don't want to hear it Nick," She shrieked at him between sobs. "How could you do this to me?"  
  
"Sara pleas-" Nick started desperately again, grabbing her bicep to stop her walking away.  
  
"FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE NICK, JUST DO ME A FAVOUR AND LEAVE ME ALONE," She screamed above the rain. The words paralysed him to the spot. Her eyes burned with a mixture if loathing, betrayal and agony he'd only seen caused by Hank. Now he had been the cause.  
  
She wrenched herself from his grip and ran off into the night. Numbly, he watched her go, unable to move. He couldn't hear the sound of the rain crashing against the pavement, nor feel it as it bashed into him. All he could hear were her words resounding in his head and feel the anguish tearing his heart in two.  
  
Sara didn't stop running until she reached her car. She pulled the keys from her pocket and fumbled with the lock. The rain had already soaked her from head to toe, but she hadn't noticed through the tears. She just wanted to get out of here.  
  
The keys slipped from her grasp and clattered against the floor. She swore and pounded the window in frustration, until she broke down crying. All the betrayal and pain surged though her. This hurt more than Hank. She had to gasp for air between heavy sobs, leaning against the SUV for support as she begged the suffering to stop. After what seemed like forever, she managed to pull herself together enough to grope for the keys on the ground. She picked them up, and, after wiping her blood shot eyes, managed to slot them into the lock.  
  
Maybe it was her hysteria or maybe the deafening sound of the hammering rain, but she never realised that he had sneaked up behind her.  
  
The first thing whish made her aware of his presence was the cloth pinned across her mouth. Sara struggled; totally bewildered about what was happening, only to have her head bashed against the mental doorframe. The last thing she could remember before the darkness claimed her was the fact - unlike her keys - two strong arms caught her before she could hit the pavement.  
  
A/N: Apart of me feels like I should be laughing evilly * dodges items thrown * Alright, alright! I sorry I had to leave it there and then be unable to update for two weeks, but I want to leave you guys something. Promise that my other fic 'Chain Reactions' is very N/S shipper friendly. How about you take out your frustration and hit that little blue button instead? Bye for now!!! 


	9. After The Storm

Disclaimer: Same as before.  
  
A/N: I'm back!!! Austria was great. For the first time in months I was completely relaxed, enjoying gorgeous cakes, beautiful scenery and awesome shops in Vienna. Plus I stayed near Salzburg, which is the home of the 'Sound Of Music' and birthplace of Mozart. Also I went to a very different Undertaker museum, where I learnt where the term Graveyard shift originally came from. Enough of my rambling and on with the thanks to the people who review the last chapter: cRaZyPiXiE, candaceFABULOUS, ArodLoverus2001, SisterBear, The Madhatter2 and MissyJane. You guys are wicked!!! Please keep them coming. I'm sorry about the cliff-hanger and have decided to make it up by updating quickly. I'm waiting for my beta to get back with the last chapter of 'Fragmented', but hopefully that will be updated soon. Well R&R and Enjoy!! - Bex :o)  
  
Warrick took another sip from the half-empty coffee mug and checked the clock on the wall again. The hands pointed definitely at 7.49am. Grissom had sent him home an hour early, because work was slow and also Warrick had spent the last three hours of the shift a sleep in the break room. So Warrick happily came back to his apartment to get ready for Jenny coming for breakfast. He'd decided to keep it simple - seeing as cooking wasn't his strong point - and just make a couple of omelettes and toast.  
  
He bobbed his head along to the radio as he poured the egg into the hot pan. Then the doorbell rang. Figuring he could risk leaving the cooking food for a minute, he hurried over and opened the door. Jenny stood in front of him dressed in a pair of tight dark brown trousers and fitted red top. "Hey, you're early."  
  
She returned the wide smile and stepped passed him into the apartment. "Hey yourself. I know I'm early, but I figured you won't mind. Better then being late."  
  
"I don't mind," He said and looked carefully at her, knowing something was amiss. "Where's Melissa?"  
  
"Had to go see Brit. I told him where I was going and he offered to take her off my hands for an hour," She filled him in. "Don't get me wrong, I love being a mother and all, but it's damn exhausting sometimes. It's nice to have a break and Brit adores spending time with her. Treats her like she's his grandchild. I guess in a way she is."  
  
"Well you're here to relax and put your feet up."  
  
Her smile widened as he pulled out a chair for her. "Always a gentleman." Then a look of confusion covered her face and she sniffed the air. "Warrick what's burning?"  
  
Warrick's eyes widened and he turned to see a thick black cloud rising from the frying pan. Quickly, he rushed over, turned off the hob and tried to fan away the smoke. Jenny walked up and leaned against the counter as she tried to control her laughter. "Where there's smoke; there's Warrick's cooking."  
  
"Ha, ha," He muttered as he slapped the pan into the sink and poured water over the smouldering ruins, but soon he was laughing as well. "God, I've messed this up."  
  
"No," She said and leaned over his shoulder to stare at the charcoaled eggs, "It just looks...inedible. So what else have you got?"  
  
"Have no idea. Look in the fridge."  
  
She wandered over and opened the door. "Oh my god. This piece of cheese has one hell of a lot of mold on it. Leave it in here any longer and it may evolve, then try to kill you in the middle of the night!"  
  
"Death by cheese. Definitely would be a new one for the team," Warrick mused. "But at least I know you'll miss me."  
  
"Ummm, I think I need time to consider that."  
  
He gave her a hurt look. "Awww, come on. That was uncalled for. You should be nicer seeing as I went to all this trouble to burn eggs for you."  
  
"Very true. No one burns food quite like you. You would be greatly missed."  
  
He leaned closer so he could inspect the furry mass on the fridge shelf. "Um, Jen, I don't think that's cheese."  
  
Jenny backed away in disgusted and slid the bin closer. "Ok, put it in there now!"  
  
Obediently, he obliged then turned his attention back to the rest of the fridge's contents. "Aha!" Warrick exclaimed triumphantly, pulling out two Chinese take-away boxes and handing them over.  
  
"Half eaten Chinese, boy you sure know how to show a girl a good time," She teased with a wicked smile.  
  
"Just wait until you're a CSI, then you shall learn the truth; take-away for dinner followed by cold take-away for breakfast is part of nutritious diet!" He retorted.  
  
Jen stuck out her tongue playfully at him. "I was in collage you know."  
  
After finding two forks, they started to eat in a comfortable silence. Warrick stole side-ways glances at Jenny, as she unknowingly bobbed her head along to the background music. Then her eyes lit up with delight and her smile widened at the new intro. "I love this song," She beamed as she hurried over to turn it up.  
  
He watched in amusement as she began to sway to the music, then started to sing perfectly in time with the lyrics: "I wonder, If he knows I've been watching him, And I wonder, If he knows I can feel him, And I wonder, In my dreams when I'm sleeping, I'm keeping him close to me. I'm thinking, He's the thunder; I'm the lightning, And I'm thinking, Maybe we can come together, And I'm thinking, We can bring the rain with a lovely breeze with such harmony"  
  
Without a second consideration, Warrick placed his own 'breakfast' down, walked over and placed his arms around her waist. She returned the gesture by wrapping her arms around his neck.  
  
"Like a train on a track, like spokes inside a wheel, Involuntary motion like rolling down hill, And there's no way to stop it. Ain't no way baby, Ain't no way baby. It's a natural thing like sunrise and dusk, Snowflakes, waterfalls, same thing with us, And there's no way to stop it, Once you fall in love."  
  
They gently swayed together to the music, as Jenny continued to sing along. Their eyes locked firmly together and Warrick smiled at seeing hers dance with joy. She hadn't looked so happy since Melissa had been born - and even then there was bitterness to the joy, knowing her husband would never see their daughter. But right now all she felt was pure peaceful happiness.  
  
"I'm glowing, And overflow of happy laughter I'm growing, Closer to you more than ever I'm blowing, Daffodils and kisses, baby breath, and roses gently touching noses, I'm sailing, Without a destination, I'm sailing, Explore uncharted places, I'm exhaling. No more lonely seasons, I'm underwater breathing. Drowning in the sea of love."  
  
The moment had crept quietly back. He knew that Jenny felt it as well, because her voice trailed off and her smile turned sombre. The music began to fade, as if hundreds of miles away. There was nothing else to stop it this time: only them.  
  
~Like a train on a track, like spokes inside a wheel, Involuntary motion like rolling down hill, And there's no way to stop it. Ain't no way baby, Ain't no way baby. It's a natural thing like sunrise and dusk, Snowflakes, waterfalls, same thing with us, And there's no way to stop it, Once you fall in love.  
  
I heard a songbird, a seed came through the earth, Strangers holding hands, a crowd cheering in the stands, I've already seen all the evidence, It's obvious love's in the air again. Saw dark clouds blow, chased by rainbows, Saw two roses bloom just like me and you, Caught up in the magic I can't pretend, It's obvious love's in the air again ~  
  
He swallowed hard, helpless to look away from her. The temptation was spreading fast and finally he gave in. He leaned closer to kiss her; ready to pull away at the first sign of hesitation. But when he received none, he deepened the kiss - letting her know just how much he wanted her. She answered back with just as much hunger; arms pulled him closer and fingers ran through his hair. Then as quickly as she responded, she backed away.  
  
~ Like a train on a track, like spokes inside a wheel, Involuntary motion like rolling down hill, And there's no way to stop it~  
  
"Warrick!" Jenny almost fumbled to the floor, when she jerked violently from his grasp. He stared at her; lips still swollen from his kiss and eyes swollen with unshed tears. The happiness has disappeared from her emerald orbs, only to replaced with the familiar pain. Pain he'd promised to protect her from.  
  
~ Ain't no way baby, Ain't no way baby ~  
  
"Jenny..." He began, trying to hold her arm in comfort like he was used to doing. She flinched away, sending a surge of pain through his already aching heart.  
  
~ It's a natural thing like sunrise and dusk, Snowflakes, waterfalls, same thing with us ~  
  
"I...I...I need to go," She stuttered, running a hand her hand. "I...have...I need to get Melissa."  
  
"Jenny!" He called in a feeble attempt to stop her as turned and fled the apartment. Warrick wanted to go after her, but he was rooted to the spot; the knowledge that he'd over stepped the line and destroyed their relationship stabbed him. What was he meant to do now?  
  
~ And there's no way to stop it, Once you fall in love ~  
  
It was the phone's ringing that managed to drag him back to reality. He blinked rapidly as his brain snapped back on and he grabbed the handset. "Hello?"  
  
"Warrick it's me," Nick voice answered back. There was something strange about it. Was it worry? Guilt? Both?  
  
"Are you ok?"  
  
"Do I sound ok?" Nick snapped, taking Warrick by surprise. He sighed and apologised quickly, "Sorry, it's just... have you seen Sara?"  
  
"Not since yesterday. She said she was going to see you. Why? What happened?" Warrick asked, suddenly troubled by Nick's tone.  
  
He sighed again heavily. "I'm such an idiot. No, idiot doesn't even begin to describe what I am... God, why did she have to do that? I thought we agreed to be friends. Just friends. God, why was I stupid enough to think she'd changed? But no, Michelle has to ruin my life again...I ca-"  
  
"What happened Nick?" Warrick pressed, cutting him off mid-ramble.  
  
"Michelle came over last night, before Sara, and we got talking and everything was fine. It was all ok until she kissed me," He paused and took a deep breath. "And Sara saw."  
  
"Shit, have you tried to explain?"  
  
"I've been trying since she left, but I can't reach her. I have no idea where she's gone. God War, what am I going to do?"  
  
Warrick rubbed his head, as he tried to think. 'Well man, we're stuck in the same boat. Both of us have hurt the girls we love the most and are now completely lost as what to do.'  
  
But instead he asked: "What are you doing now?"  
  
"Walking around outside, trying to get my head back together and figure out how the hell I am going to make this rig-" He stopped abruptly.  
  
"Nick, what's going on?" Warrick asked, the sudden silence alarming him.  
  
"Oh god Warrick, it's Sara's SUV, it's definitely hers. It's about a block away from my apartment....oh no....no..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Her keys are on the ground beneath it....Oh god! God no!"  
  
"Nick, what is it?" He asked, already sure by Nick's tone that it wasn't good, but he needed to know.  
  
"There's blood..."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The bright yellow crime scene tap was already up and police officers milled near by as Grissom and Catherine pulled up in their Tahoe. They had been asleep when the phone rang; quickly waking up when they heard the news. He'd ordered them not to touch a thing until he'd arrived, and - after a tiny argument - agreed that Catherine could come.  
  
Grissom slid his sunglasses on; the Las Vegas skies shone brightly once more, as if the events of last night had never happened and the horrors had been washed away as well. 'No,' He thought darkly. 'They're still here. Even after the storm is gone, it's presence remains.'  
  
He felt a hand squeeze his arm and he turned to look at Cath, as she nodded towards Nick and Warrick. Both were slumped on the pavement; Nick fidgeting impatiently, whilst Warrick tried to calm him. Gris and Catherine walked towards them - kits ready in hands. Nick spotted them first and leapt to his feet. "Come on le-" He began as he took a step towards the crime scene, but Grissom stopped him.  
  
"You can't handle this one Nick."  
  
"Why the hell not?" Nick demanded, rage filling his voice.  
  
"You know why not. I'm sorry Nicky, but you're the most emotionally involved out of all of us. Go back with Brass and we'll handle this."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Please Nick, I know you want to help her, but this is the only way you can right now. Please."  
  
He glared frostily at Grissom as Brass led him to the car. Gris felt Cath walk up next to him, all eyes watching Nick departure. "Then why do we have the case Gil? Shouldn't this be handled by the day team?" She asked gently.  
  
"Ecklie's team couldn't find a piece of evidence if it was bagged, labelled and right under their noses. We owe Sara more then that," Grissom stated. "Besides, we know him."  
  
His last words took them both by surprise. "You don't think it's the stripper and hooker killer do you?" Warrick questioned.  
  
"It's hard to explain, but I know when it's one of his crime scenes. There's just this feeling that lingers there and this feels like one of his."  
  
"There...there might be another explanation," Cath pointed out uncertainly. "I mean; this might not be what it looks like."  
  
Grissom nodded slightly. "I haven't ruled that out yet. That's why, when we get back, I want you and Warrick to think of anywhere she might have gone and check them out." He pulled out a pair of latex gloves and turned his attention back to the crime scene. "But right now, we have a crime scene to process."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Her head hurt. It was the first thing Sara was sure of as the darkness released her from its hold. Everything was a jumble inside her head; nothing made sense. She tried to move, but her hands were yanked forcefully back with a clunk. Sara stared up to find that her wrist had been pinned above her head, held in place with chains. Pointlessly, she tugged at them, but the metal held fast. She blinked into the gloom, wondering where the hell she was.  
  
Bricks scrapped the backs of her hands and she managed to make out a large old-fashioned boiler in the corner. 'Ok, so I guess this is a basement,' She concluded.  
  
Then the smell of burning flesh stung her nose. She recoiled in disgust, feeling nausea stirring in the pit of her stomach and just wishing that the smell would disappear. After several minutes, she dared to open her eyes again and she realised something else: she wasn't alone. On the opposite wall lay another woman. She was from African origin, her dark hair fell in greasy wild curls and he dark skin was somehow sickly pale. And - just like Sara - her arms were chained above her head.  
  
Sara tried to call out to her, but her throat was bone-dry, making her voice no louder than a whisper. The woman gave no response. Sara wondered if she even knew that she was there. She looked so weak and frail, but it was her eyes that froze her blood. They were bleak and hollow, as if the light of life and hope had been long snuffed out. And now they remained fixed to her left.  
  
Following her gaze, Sara's eyes landed upon an empty basin on the floor, above which was a photo. It was a photo she's seen before: the one of Catherine and her old workmates at the 'French Palace'. But Portia's face had been slashed and next to her stood the smiling image of the girl trapped here. Panic surged through Sara as she realised where she was and what was happening. The fearful nausea was rising faster then mercury and she desperately tried to yank herself free from her restraints.  
  
Suddenly, the door banged open and the bright light that flooded in stung her eyes. A dark figure approached her as she tried to back away. His forearms were more tanned then the rest of him - they were outstretched as he carried a tray. Ink-black hair flopped in front of his eyes and the orbs themselves were just as dark. He knelt down beside Sara and - without so much as looking directly at her - began to tend to the cut on her forehead. She hissed as it stung, but his tender touch took her by surprise. When he's finished, he pressed a glass of water to her lips. She gratefully drank it, the cooling liquid smoothing her throat.  
  
She stared over his shoulder at the other girl who had been left neglected. "What about her?" She croaked to her captor.  
  
Slowly, he looked at the other girl, then at the basin and finally at the small slit in the wall - the only source of light in the cellar. Then he held Sara's gaze, before standing up and leaving, locking the door firmly behind him. Though he hadn't spoken a word, he had answered her question: when the sun went down, the other girl's time had run out.  
  
A/N: Well at least you now know Sara's alive. What do you think? Any theories, comments, questions, or rambles are much welcomed. I know you've missed hitting that little button for two weeks; so go on, what are you waiting for? Lol :o) 


	10. Guilt

Disclaimer: Yeah I own this - in an alternate universe where I've married Greg as well!  
  
A/N: Hey all. I said I wouldn't be too long updating. I'm going back to school on Friday * groan * (who's bright idea was it to send us back the day before the weekend!), but I'm hoping to update with another chapter before then. I'm still wondering what happened to summer! Thanks for all who reviewed the last chapter: candaceFABULOUS, MissyJane, The Madhatter2, ArodLoverus2001, Sprinkles143, Stokes-CSI3 and SisterBear. You guys are great. Please keep them coming. Well, on with the plot and Sara's sticky situation. R&R and ENJOY!! - Bex :o)  
  
It was either the same killer or a conspiracy. Once more they had a crime scene lacking in evidence: only a set of keys, small blood sample - believed to be Sara's - and a whole lot of nothing. Grissom had quickly handed Greg the blood sample, stressing its importance even though the lab tech already knew. Also, in his frustration, he'd ordered Warrick to search the SUV as thoroughly as possible - dismantling it if needed. He didn't want the slightest chance left that they had missed something. Cath was busy trying to contact everyone or anyplace Sara might have gone to. Through the break room window, he watched Nick as he paced back and forth; at the rate he was going, he would soon wear a hole in the carpet.  
  
"Hey." He turned to see Warrick walking up, not liking the look covering the other CSI's face. The defeated they all wore to often lately.  
  
"Found anything?" He asked pointlessly; he already knew the answer.  
  
Warrick slowly shook his head. "Nothing. I took the whole damn thing apart, check for prints and I find nothing. Damn it Grissom, what the hell are we going to do?"  
  
"Wait," He replied with rational simplicity, "We haven't confirmed that the blood is Sara's yet and Cath hasn't finished checking all the places she might have gone."  
  
"Yes I have." They turned to see Catherine approaching. Once again the same look clung to another face. "I've got nothing. I've checked everyone; apart from Jenny Sinclair, I couldn't reach her."  
  
"She hasn't seen Sara," Warrick mumbled quietly.  
  
Now all eyes were on him. "And you know that how?" Cath questioned.  
  
"She came over for breakfast. She would have said something," He replied awkwardly, before quickly changing the subject, "So what do we do now?"  
  
"What else can we do but wait?" Grissom sighed. "We still need to know if the blood on the car was Sara's or not."  
  
And as if by taking some secret cue, the lab door opened and Greg came skidding out into the corridor. Except the usual blaring music did not escape with him, only stillness. Grissom wasn't sure if this worried him more then the expression spread across the lab tech's face.  
  
Something must have made Nick aware of Greg running towards the break room, because he stopped dead and rushed out into the corridor to join the others. "You have the results?" He demanded urgently, even before Greg had reached them.  
  
Greg jerked to a halt, allowing them to see clearly just how shook up he was. In his shaking hands was a white sheet: the DNA results of the blood sample. Nick snatched them from him. "I checked and double checked," Greg told them, his voice wavering, as Nick's eyes expressionlessly scanned the results. "I made sure, god and I hope it was wrong. I'm so sorry man. It's her. It's Sara's blood."  
  
Nick didn't respond; instead he shoved the paper back at Greg, turned around and marched off. The others exchanged a look, before Grissom took off after him. He followed Nick into the bathroom and found him slumped over a sink. "He's got her hasn't he," He stated more then asked, not once turning around. Grissom said nothing and Nick continued, "I can't believed that I kept trying to kid myself. I knew he'd taken her, yet I kept telling myself that there must be another explanation."  
  
"We're going to get her back Nick," Grissom reassured.  
  
Nick let out a hollow laugh, sending a chill down Grissom's spine. "'Cause we've done such a great job so far." Then he spun round to face Grissom. Blue eyes met brown ones flooded with rage. "Why her? Why? She doesn't fit the profile. She's never stripped or sold herself. She's a goddamn good caring person. Does that mean nothing? She doesn't deserve this."  
  
"No one deserves this," Grissom stated. "Nick, you should go home and get some rest. We'll handle this."  
  
"What, as well as you've handled this so far?" He spat. "I'm working on this case Grissom whether you like it or not."  
  
"Nick-"  
  
"What if it was Catherine, Grissom?" Nick demanded. "What if it was her and not Sara? Would you take yourself off the case?" Grissom gave no reply and Nick shook his head. "Thought not."  
  
He began to stalk out, but Grissom grabbed his arm. "Nick, I know how upset you ar-"  
  
"No Grissom," He cut across, "You don't know. You don't know what it's like to know that someone you love more then life, is in danger and it's all you fault."  
  
"It's not you fault," Grissom said firmly, but Nick didn't hear him as he continued his rant."  
  
"It's all my fault. I could have stopped this. If I had just.... just stopped being such a asshole for a second and just... You know what the funny thing is? I love her. I don't think I've ever loved anyone as much, and I might have well just gone and sighed her death sentence."  
  
"Nick, it's not you fault."  
  
"But it is. It's all my fucking fault!" Without warning, the younger CSI whirled around and put his fist through the mirror. Fragments of glass cascaded onto the floor and splinted in between his knuckles. He stared at his hand, watching the fresh blood drip down, not wincing once in pain. "It's all my fault," He finished softly.  
  
As Grissom had assumed: the noise of the smashing glass had echoed down the corridor, and Catherine, Greg and Warrick came bursting through the door. Cath first took in the mess, then gasped when she saw Nick's bloody fist and the glass still sticking into it.  
  
"Oh god Nicky," She whispered and gently took his hand in hers. Tenderly, she pulled the glass from it and wrapped a hand towel over the open wounds. "Come on, let's clear you up."  
  
Helplessly, he allowed her to lead him out of the room. Grissom waited a few moments before speaking to Warrick: "Do you know what happened between him and Sara?"  
  
Warrick sighed. "You remember Michelle Evans?" Both Gris and Greg nodded and Warrick continued, "She came back to town. Nick didn't originally tell Sara 'cause he was worried about how she would react, and when he did tell her it caused a fight. Sara went over to Nick's to sort it out, except Michelle went over there first. Michelle kissed Nick, Sara saw and left before he could explain."  
  
Greg stared at Grissom. "What do we do now?"  
  
"What ever we can. Go over all the evidence again and over the case files. Get in touch with anyone who knew the victims, I don't want any possibilities left. I'm going to try contacting Brit and Jenny. We are going to find him and Sara."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
An hour later, Grissom's office door slowly opened. He looked over the top of the file to see Catherine standing in front of him. She smiled at him, though he could see sadness in her eyes. "Hey."  
  
"Hi. How's Nick?" He inquired.  
  
"Asleep in the break room."  
  
"How did you manage that?"  
  
"I slipped enough of Brass' whiskey into his decaf coffee to knock out my mother," She replied with a shrug, "And trust me, that takes a lot."  
  
"And how are you doing?" Grissom asked gently.  
  
Catherine shook her head. "Not good. Why did he take her Gris?"  
  
"I have no idea," Grissom admitted.  
  
"It doesn't make any sense. If it should have been anyone, it should have been me."  
  
"Don't say that," Grissom said, quickly standing up and pulling her into a tight embrace.  
  
"What if he made a mistake? What if it was meant to be me, but somehow he got Sara instead? Or in his sick twisted mind all women are the same? Worthless whores whose deaths don't deserve a second glance?" Grissom could hear that her voice was on the verge of tears. "It should have been me Gil. Me not Sara."  
  
"Shhhh. It should have been no one. I don't know what I would do without you," He confessed. "If I lost you, or anything ever happened to you or Lindsey, I would never forgive myself."  
  
"Nothing is going to happen," She reassured. "I'm going no where."  
  
They held each other closely, as if afraid that the other may disappear at any moment. He rested his head against her neck, comfort and guilt filling him. Guilty at knowing that Nick couldn't hold the one he loved like this right now. Guilty that he had what had been stolen from Nick. Guilty at feeling of minute relieved that it wasn't Catherine instead.  
  
He heard her try to suppress a yawn. Grissom leaned back so he could look her in the eye and at the black rings that lined them. "You need to get some rest."  
  
"I'm fine," She lied.  
  
"You're not Cath. You haven't slept, well, since Portia went missing. Please, go home and get some rest."  
  
"No."  
  
"Please Cath, you need to." She opened her mouth to protest, but he place a finger to her lips, cutting her off. "Please, for me. We'll be ok here. Just get some rest or even spend some time with Lindsey."  
  
"She's not at home, remember. She's at her friend's, Amy's, sleepover," She corrected.  
  
"Course. All right, just sleep them. If we need you, we'll call."  
  
"Ok," She gave in, "But I'll be back for the night shift."  
  
"I'm not sure if you'll be needed. We haven't got many leads to look into. So if you don't feel up to it, don't come."  
  
"I'll be back," She insisted.  
  
Grissom decided to stop trying to argue with her. Instead he kissed her hard on the lips: a kiss that lingered bitter-sweetly for a while. "Grissom," Cath whispered as they broke apart. "You are going to need me."  
  
"Why?" He asked, already knowing the answers, for her blue eyes told him. Eyes filled with fear and sorrow.  
  
"Because it's the third night since Portia's death. The night when someone else joins her and another one is picked to share the same fate. When time begins to run out, all over again, to find her."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Sara had no idea how long it had been since the last light from the Las Vegas skies had fled for another day. There was no time in the place; she knew it could have only been minutes, but it seemed like hours. Days. Her eyes remained fixed in the direction of the slit; silently begging the light to slip through it once more. But only darkness was drawn here.  
  
She stared over at the other captive. The words describing her soon-to-be fate plagued her head: she would be raped, drowned and dumped. An end that no one should be given.  
  
The door opened again, letting artificial light in, and the killer walked down the stairs, every step echoing around the cellar. Once again, he set a tray down beside Sara and knelt down. This time he pressed some bread to her lips, then - once she's finished eating - a glass of water.  
  
Her eyes flickered to the other girl and he followed her gaze. He looked back at Sara; once more his cold coal eyes locked with hers. "Please don't," She begged frailly.  
  
He gave her no response; instead he picked up a bag off the tray and pulled out a needle filled with clear liquid. She tried to struggle back, but he grabbed her and jabbed the needle into the base of her neck. The sting was slowly replaced by darkness as the drug entered her bloodstream. And as she fell back into dreamless sleep, she swore she could hear faint screams that sounded hundreds of miles away.  
  
A/N: What do you think? Rambles, comments, theories, queries, etc are always welcome. So what are you waiting for? Hit that button now!!! :o) 


	11. The Third Night

Disclaimer: Sadly they didn't take my bid of £1.50 very seriously, so I still don't own this.  
  
A/N: Hello. Said I won't take too long updating. Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter: A Bloom, Sylphide, chimaera-104, Charming-Storm, The Madhatter2, MagentaLee, MissyJane and Sprinkles143. You guys are awesome. The terrible fate of school is about to bestowed upon me once more tomorrow ('cause sending us back the day before the weekend was so clever!), so please leave a review and give me something to smile about. I may take a bit longer updating. Well R&R and Enjoy!!! - Bex :o)  
  
Apart of Grissom would not be surprised if he could recite every page from the case by heart. Even though he'd placed the file back down, the words still ran though his mind. Though the fact he'd discovered, once more, that he hadn't missed anything, the thought didn't reassure. He wanted to find something he'd missed. He needed to find something he'd missed. Raped, drowned and dumped: the fate of 4 women so far. 'And is it going to be Sara's?' He thought in despair, 'No, don't think like that.'  
  
He was saved from his tormented thoughts by his office door opening. Brass walked up to the front of the desk and sat down in the chair. 'How you doing?" Brass asked. Grissom gave him a look and he added: "Stupid question. I've still got some men asking around. Also every cop on patrol tonight's keeping an eye out, as well as for a body."  
  
"I'm not sure if there will be one."  
  
"But it's the third night right?"  
  
"Yeah, but Sara being taken changes everything," Gris sighed in frustration.  
  
"Gil, we still don't know if it's the same asshole," Brass reminded him.  
  
"Oh, it's him. If not, we've got a bigger problem; we've got two killers who are superb of ridding scene of evidence." Grissom leaved back into his chair and rubbed his forehead. "Sara doesn't fit Jim. Nothing about her abduction fits. She was never a prostitute or stripper. She wasn't even taken on the third night for crying out loud. What he trying to tell us? What is he playing at?"  
  
Brass gave him a curt shrug. "I have no idea; but I have a grim feeling we're going to find out soon."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Cold sweat dripped down her face as she bolted up right. Catherine ran a clammy hand through her hair, wishing the Grissom was here to hold her until she felt safe again. But the bed was empty; just like the rest of the house. She glanced at the clock and silently swore when she realised that she was going to be late for the shift. Not that Grissom would find that a bad thing right now. 'Stop trying to protect me Gil and admit you need my help with this case,' She told him mentally.  
  
After choosing whether to go straight to work or be a bit later and have a shower first, she decided on the second option. She dragged herself out of bed and began to strip off her clothes as she entered the bathroom.  
  
The taps took a bit of adjusting before she reached a suitable temperature to stand under. The hot water poured sown her body, Catherine had hopped that it would wash away the memories of her dream, but instead it stirred them. Stirred the absolute darkness back into her mind. Stirred the terrified screams as they called for help, whilst she desperately tired to find the owner. Stirred the sudden deadly silence and the body she found. Stirred the manic laughter of malevolence triumphant.  
  
It was the same dream she'd been having since Portia's abduction. Except tonight's had been different; it had been Sara's body in front of her instead of the dead stripper. 'Why did he take her?' She thought, desperately searching for sense. 'Why her and not me?'  
  
She stepped out of the shower, quickly dried herself off and redressed for the shift. Catherine knew that she should leave, but something drew her to the wardrobe. The door slid open easily and, after a small amount of searching, she found the old shoebox she was looking for. Gently, she eased it down and knelt beside it. She opened it and discovered what she had wanted to find.  
  
The picture was of her old life. Old Vegas. The younger version of her stood outside 'The French Palace' along with the other dances. She stared at the mass of faces. Her eyes rested on Portia's smiling image for a moment - the woman had stood to the left of her. All smiling, all happy and all safe. What a different picture from today.  
  
She flipped it over and scanned the signature that covered the back. Every girl had received one and signed everyone else's as a reminder of these days; still lived by some and left by others. 'Others like me. Except Portia wasn't so lucky.'  
  
Not bothering to put the box back, Catherine placed the photo on the lid and hurried outside. For a moment she fumbled with the keys as she tried to place them into the lock. A rustle in the bushes made her jump. Wide eyed, she scanned her surroundings until she was satisfied that it was nothing. 'Paranoid,' She scolded herself.  
  
Finally the keys slid in, as a hand clamped down around her mouth sealing a cloth to her face. She raised up her hand in an attempt to pull the hand away as she struggled, but it did no good. The intoxicating drug had already started to flow alongside her blood, making every muscle limp and dragging her world slowly into black.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The white dress was draped across the pavement and hugged the body of the black woman; the pale dress was a contrast to the dark skin. Grissom stared at image he'd seen too many times now; and a part grimly knew he'd be seeing it again. He heard the clicking of the camera cease and nodded at Warrick to let the corpse be removed.  
  
They hadn't arrived here straight away; it had taken a couple of minutes for them to loose Nick. Slowly, Grissom joined Warrick in searching the crime scene. He wondered if they would find the clue they desperately needed, or find nothing once more.  
  
So far they had a Jane Doe; without anyone in life who cared enough to notice her missing, and no one they knew about who would care she'd died either.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Right now he didn't know what he found more frustrating; the fact they'd come back with nothing or the fact that Jenny and Brit had seemed to have disappeared when they needed them the most. The clock insisted that it was only 3.30am, a mere half-hour since the body had turned up, yet it felt like a completely different night.  
  
Cath, it seemed, had decided not to come in after all. This gave him some reassurance; he'd taken her off the case for a reason. He considered trying to ring Brit or Jenny again. Under normal circumstances he wouldn't even think about ringing them at this ungodly hour; but these were not normal circumstances. Grissom picked up the phone and tried Jenny first, only to reach her answering machine again. Then he dialled Brit's number, just to find that his phone was still unplugged. What was going on? It was almost as if they were avoiding someone.  
  
Gris slumped back into his chair and waited. Waited to see if the Jane Doe's prints were on AFIS. Waited to see if Doc Robbins' autopsy revealed something new. Waited for a clue to be found. And for the killer to strike again.  
  
The phone rang and he hastily answered it, praying that it was either Jenny or Brit or a new lead. "Grissom?"  
  
"Um...Mr Grissom," An unfamiliar female voice answered, "This is Sophie Geller, Amy's mom."  
  
"Oh, of course. Is everything ok?"  
  
"Well, Lindsey's a bit sick. She's thrown up and is running a bit of a temperature. Normally I won't have rung and let her stay here, but she said you were working, so I thought it might be best to ring you so you can take her home."  
  
"Sure. I'll be over there soon. Thank you."  
  
"Ok, I'll see you then. Bye."  
  
He hung up the phone and thought about asking Cath to pick her up, but he decided to leave her be. Instead he grabbed his jacket and headed to the break room. Nick sat fidgeting restlessly in a chair, but shot Grissom a murderous glare when he entered. Gris chose to ignore it and walked up to Warrick who was fixing the coffee machine. "We need a new one Grissom," Warrick commented, as he carried on fiddling about with the mechanics.  
  
"I need to go and pick up Lindsey," He told the other CSI in a low whisper.  
  
"She ok?"  
  
"Yeah, just a bit sick. I'll have my phone with me, so call me if anything comes up."  
  
"Sure."  
  
And with that, disregarding Nick's venomous look, he left.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Uncle Grissom?" Lindsey whispered as her eyes droopily opened.  
  
He smiled softly down at the girl. She was curled up in a bed upstairs, her skin was very pale and her forehead burned with a temperature. Gently, he stroked her hair. "Hey honey. How are you feeling?"  
  
She shook her head weakly in response and Grissom carefully picked her up. "I'm taking you home, ok sweetheart?" He turned to Mrs Geller. "Thank you."  
  
"Not a problem." Shrieking of over excited children seeped in from downstairs. She laughed, "I'm surprised this one could sleep with all this racket. I can't."  
  
They walked downstairs to find a cluster of children waiting for them. There was a chorus of 'bye's and 'get well soon', as they walked through the door. Grissom placed her into the front passenger seat in the SUV and fastened the seatbelt for her.  
  
The journey was travelled in silence; Grissom thoughts had wondered back to the case and he had a feeling that Lindsey had fallen asleep. Either way, she was awake when the car pulled into the drive of their house. He went to pick her up again, except she got out herself. "I'm alright," She murmured groggily.  
  
For the first time that night, a small smile touched his lip, as he realised she was as stubborn and strong-minded as her mother. He led her to the front door and stopped abruptly.  
  
The sight of the keys still hanging in the lock froze his heart and stole the colour from his face. He pressed a hand firmly on Lindsey's should to stop her moving any closer. "What's wrong Uncle Grissom?"  
  
"Sweetheart, you know how to use my phone right?" He asked her, trying to keep the panic from his voice. She nodded even though his question confused her. "Good. I want you to go back to the car and lock the doors after you get in. Then I want you to call Uncle Jim and tell him we have a possible 418, ok?"  
  
"Ok," She replied unsurely.  
  
"And tell him to bring Uncle Warrick and Nick. Can you do that for me honey?" He requested.  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Good girl."  
  
He made sure that she was safely back in the car, before he slid on his gloves and slowly opened the unlocked door. The house was eerily quiet; the usual feeling of life had vanished. His hand clasped around his gun just in case. "Cath? Catherine?" He called into the shadows, only to be answered by silence.  
  
Carefully, he checked each empty room, his fear mounting with every door. Finally he reached their bedroom. As he turned the handle, he prayed he would find Catherine asleep in the bed. All he found was an unmade bed; empty like the rest of the house.  
  
Something caught his eye in the midst his anxiety. He walked over to find a box on the floor with a photo lying on top. He knelt down beside to examine it and instantly recognised the face of their new Jane Doe. Next to her stood Portia and, finally, his eyes landed on Catherine. His worst fears were slowly being confirmed by the terrible truth.  
  
A/N: Ha, did you see that one coming? The usual thoughts, feelings, comments, rambles, etc are welcome. So go on and hit that button NOW!!! Put a smile on my face! Lol :o) 


	12. Twists and Turns

Disclaimer: Nothing has changed since the last chapter. Me still don't own :o(  
  
A/N: Hey all. So it didn't take me too long, so you've got to give me credit for this. Thanks to all of you wonderful people who reviewed the last chapter: The Madhatter2, gilcathlover, MissyJane, Elle9, cRaZyPiXiE, Charming-Storm, csi uk, A Bloom, Sprinkles143 and sab. You guys really make my day. Well I'm partly buried under coursework and there's still more to come, so I might take a bit of time updating again. But please review and be my silver lining to so much work. Well R&R and ENJOY!!! - Bex :o)  
  
Her eyelids were like lead. Sara struggled to force them open again. Her head spun making everything blurring into one big mess. The wall scrapped her hands and the chains restricted her arm movement, confirming that she was still trapped in the basement. Still alive. 'But what about the other girl?' She thought bleakly, remembering the distant screaming.  
  
Finally she managed to open her eyes completely and forced them to look across to the spot where the girl once was. Except she was no longer there: the chains held a new prisoner. "Catherine!" She yelped in surprise. Her friend didn't move; her head still lolled against the brick wall. "Catherine? CATHERINE?" She shouted, her voice getting more and more frantic.  
  
Sara's heart settled slightly as she saw Catherine shift; groaning as she groggily opened her eyes. Her blue orbs landed straight on Sara; confusion followed by relief took over them. Sara could have sworn that if she could move, Catherine would have pulled her into a hug by now. "Sara. Sara you're ok. We were so worried," She breathed. Then the reality of her situation began to settle in, "He's got us hasn't he?"  
  
Sara nodded sadly, though Cath needed no conformation. The older woman carried on scanning their prison, as if searching for a way out. Her eyes landed on the photo and she let out a gasp of horror at the slash through the now dead girl's face. "Oh god, not Nina. Please, not her as well."  
  
"I'm so sorry Cath," Sara whispered, her voice wavering with tears like the ones falling down Cath's face.  
  
Catherine sobbed in anguished and then shook her head as if to pull herself together. "We're getting out of here," She told Sara, her voice full of determination as she began to yank at the chains.  
  
This attempt abruptly stopped when the door flew open and the light rushed back in. The killer made his way back down the stairs, carrying a tray like before, whilst Catherine backed away as far as she could. "What are you trying to prove you asshole?" She screamed at him. He chose to ignore her and walked over to Sara. "Please," Catherine begged, "Let Sara go. She hasn't done anything wrong. She's not like me or the others. You have me, so just please let her go."  
  
But he pretended he was deaf to her pleads - as if in his world she ceased to exist. He knelt down beside Sara and pressed some bread to her lips. She refused to eat it and he shoved it more aggressively towards her. "What about Catherine?" She questioned. He just shook his head, trying to force her to eat, but she definitely turned her head away.  
  
The killer sighed in frustration and chucked the food violently back onto the tray, making both of the women jump at the outburst. He stormed out of the cellar, slamming the door behind him and locking it firmly shut; trapping the light out and the shadows in.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Grissom was greeted by flashing lights as he numbly exited his house. Car doors opened and he spotted Nick and Warrick hurriedly getting out of the Tahoe. The younger men ran over; the spite that clung previously to Nick's face had vanished. Now it was a mask of pity, concern and understanding. 'Well, at least he can be honest when he says he knows what I'm going through,' He thought blankly.  
  
He felt like he was in a dream; none of this was real. His dazed eyes inspected each equally worried face. "Grissom?" Warrick said gently, as if asking what had happened.  
  
He swallowed. "She's gone. Cath's gone and he's taken her."  
  
"Jesus," Brass swore under his breath.  
  
Warrick uneasily cleared his throat. "We know who the Jane Doe is."  
  
"Nina Hawk," Grissom finished to their surprise. He showed them the photo he still clutched in his hand. "She used to work with Cath. I think our killers got a copy of this."  
  
"Oh god."  
  
"What else can you tell me?"  
  
"Miss Hawk was still working at the 'French Palace', but she was arrested a few months ago for prostitution," Brass filled him in.  
  
"Anything else? Did Greg or Al find anything?"  
  
"She was killed the same way as the others - only raped once unlike Portia - except this time there was no semen. He used a condom," Nick replied this time.  
  
Grissom raised an eyebrow. "A condom? He never worried before about leaving his DNA, so what's changed?"  
  
The others shook their head, completely stumped by the new development. "What can we do?" Nick asked quietly.  
  
"I don't want any tape up 'til Lindsey's out of here," Gris ordered, the other men followed his gaze back to the parked SUV. The young girl still sat in the car; confusion and worry haunted her eyes as they flicked around the scene in front of her.  
  
"I can have an officer take her back to headquarters," Brass offered.  
  
Grissom nodded and Brass called to a younger redhead female officer, as they approached the car. Lindsey saw them heading over and automatically jumped out of the car and into Gris' arms. "What's going on? Where's mom?" She questioned.  
  
"We're not sure right now sweetie," He told her honestly, "But we're gonna find her. Right now I want you to go with..." He quickly glanced at the female officer, who mouthed 'Debbie'. "Debbie here. She's going to take you back to the lab, ok."  
  
"Ok, Uncle Grissom."  
  
He held her tightly and kissed her head. "It's going to be ok Lindsey, I promise."  
  
"I know, I trust you," She nodded slightly. "I love you Uncle Grissom."  
  
"I love you too sweetheart."  
  
Reluctantly, he released her from his embrace and watched the officer lead her off to a waiting police car. "What now?" Brass asked after they had regrouped with Nick and Warrick.  
  
"Nick and Warrick search the crime scene," He told them, knowing - and despising the fact - that his emotions made him a liability.  
  
"Shouldn't this be handed over to the day shift?" Brass suggested carefully.  
  
"Ecklie's coming no where near this case," He snapped in response. "Nick, Warrick, I want you to start processing this scene. And I want you to do a damn thorough job; leave no stone unturned. Got it?"  
  
They nodded. "We will," Warrick promised.  
  
Grissom turned his attention back to Brass. "I want you to come with me."  
  
"Where're we going?"  
  
"We've got some dancers to talk to."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"I can't believe it," The girl whispered, "Are you sure it's her?"  
  
Brass nodded. She sat slumped in a chair in the 'French Palace' changing room. A dressing gown clung to her slim figure, whilst concealing what little clothing she wore underneath. A bony finger twisted long dark hair around it out of habit, as grey eyes blurred with tears stayed fixed on the floor. "I don't believe it. I mean, I like saw her only three days ago, ya know," She murmured.  
  
"Miss Reel-"  
  
"Leah," She corrected, "The Miss thing has never suited me."  
  
"Why didn't you report Miss Hawk missing?" Grissom complete the question for Brass.  
  
Leah stared at him in confusion. "'Cause she wasn't. I mean, she'd gone away."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"Visiting her mom."  
  
"We never received a missing person report from her either," Brass told her.  
  
"Oh you wouldn't of. She's got premature dementia I think. Anyway, she's in this nursing home thing. Cost Nina a bomb to keep her there so..."  
  
She let her voice trail off, but Grissom finished the sentence for her, "So she went into prostitution to earn more money?"  
  
Leah nodded slightly surprised. "She was such a good person, doesn't matter what she did, nothing changes that fact, ya know?" She stated suddenly as if they were suggesting something else. "When I started here, she was the one who showed me the ropes. She watched my back and gave me pointers, like which regulars gave the best tips. And she loved her mom to bits, only reason she got into that. God, it shouldn't have been her."  
  
"Do you know if Miss Hawk own a picture like this?" Grissom asked, showing her Cath's photo.  
  
"Yeah she did." Leah's face was touched by a tiny smile. "She used to always go on about these days." She stopped fiddling with her hair and used the finger to point at Catherine. "That was like her mentor. Nina was barely 18 when she started here, and that was the woman who looked after her, like Nina did for me. Nina used to go on about what an amazing dancer she was and how she would have given anything to be like her." The smile vanished. "To get out of the business like her."  
  
The girl stared at the photo, complete zoned out into her own little world. Then she raised her head and her tear filled eyes looked straight at men before her. "Maybe if she had, this wouldn't of happened."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Yeah, that's just like the photo that was in Portia's locker."  
  
The young woman with tacky blond hair continued to tweak it into place, completely oblivious to the fury filling Grissom's face. "Why didn't you tell us this before?"  
  
The blond rolled her eyes as she turned from the mirror and fixed her face caked in thick make-up with a look as if he was incredibly dim. "'Coz ya didn't ask. Jesus!" She turned back to the mirror, pushed an invisible strand back into place, and turned back. "Can I like go now? 'Coz I'm loosing money here."  
  
All Grissom wanted to do was close the gap between them and shake some sense into her stupidly selfish head. She may be loosing money, but she had just lost someone valuable time off their ever shortening lifespan. But Brass got in there first: "Sure."  
  
The stripper waltzed off and Gris sat down on a chair in the changing room. "I knew something was missing from Portia's locker." He muttered.  
  
"And I guess we know how he knew about Cath," Brass added. He turned the photo over in his hand. "God, there must be about 20 signatures here. What are we going to do?"  
  
Grissom met his eye with a hard expression. "Find Catherine and Sara, catch this bastard and make sure he pays for every life he's stolen."  
  
A/N: Watch you think? You know the drill by now; you have an opinion I want to hear, so hit that little button and tell me! :o) 


	13. Pushing The Limits

Disclaimer: Nothing has changed!  
  
A/N: Ok, I'll apologise for taking a while, but I did warn you. Finally, I managed to finish writing this on the side of coursework. I have a draft copy to be in on Monday about Euthanasia and it still needs a lot of work. Anyhow, thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter: Stokes-CSI3, The Madhatter2, cRaZyPiXiE, spikes-storm, MagentaLee, Charming-Storm, MissyJane, gilcathlover and SisterBear. You guys are great! I don't have the time to keep waffling and I'm sure you'd rather read the story then hear it; so on with the plot! R&R and Enjoy!!! - Bex :o)  
  
The second Grissom got back; he headed straight for the lab. Nick, Warrick and Greg were all in there as he burst through the door. "What have you got?" He asked, ignoring the bleak looks.  
  
"Nothing," Greg said numbly.  
  
"Nothing!" Grissom repeated. "Well that's just great, isn't it?!"  
  
The other exchanged a look, but Gris didn't bother to acknowledge that he'd seen it; instead he let out a sight as if releasing some of his frustration. "Where's Lindsey?"  
  
"The officer took her to you office," Warrick replied.  
  
"Good."  
  
He took the photo from his pocket and placed it down in front of them. "What's this?" Greg inquired, seeing the picture for the first time.  
  
"A visual list of his next possible victims. I want you to find out everything you can about these woman," Grissom ordered, failing to stop a yawn as he turned to march back out.  
  
"Where are you going?" Nick questioned.  
  
Grissom looked back over his shoulder. "To get a coffee before I pass out and then try to figure out what we're going to do next."  
  
He left before anyone got a chance to say anything else. Heading straight for the coffeepot, he grabbed a mug beside it and paused. The carelessly washed mug still had traces of lipstick on it; lipstick he recognised as Catherine's. Slowly, he placed it back down as he tried to burry the fear which told him that he might never see her again. "Gil Grissom, just the man I wanted to see."  
  
Grissom turned to find Ecklie skulking in doorway. He managed to hide his annoyance at the other man's unwelcome presence. "What do you want Conrad?"  
  
"I heard about Catherine. I'm sorry, must be hard to loose two of your own," Ecklie said without sympathy. "Anyway, that's why my team's taking over the case."  
  
Gris scoffed dryly. "You're coming no where near it."  
  
"You see that's where the Sheriff and I disagree with you."  
  
"Well you can tell him that I disagree with the decision and, whether either of you likes it or not, my team's still working this case," Grissom replied firmly.  
  
"Oh come on Gil, do you really think you can catch this guy in time?" Ecklie stated coolly. "Five women have died and your team are no where nearer to stopping it happening again. Then you lost Sara Sidle. I admit that it was a shock to me at first, but I've always thought she was too squeaky clean to be a member of your shift. And Stokes has slept with a hooker once, what's to say he isn't again?" Grissom could barely manage to contain the intense anger mounting within him, but it was the next comment that set his rage free: "And I always knew that Catherine's past would catch back up with her. Really anyone in that kinda work had it coming sooner or later."  
  
Something must have alerted Brass and Warrick to the argument in the break room, because the second Grissom's fist collided with Ecklie's face, they were in there like a flash. Together, they held Grissom back, but both men struggled to keep him restrained. Ecklie gingerly touched his cheek, whilst a trickle of blood oozed from his mouth. "The Sheriff's gonna hear about this," He threatened angrily.  
  
"Yeah, and I'd bet he'd like to know your opinion on the victims," Grissom shot back.  
  
"Well you know I'm right."  
  
It was obvious that if he could, Grissom would have taken another swing at him. Brass glared at Ecklie as he held his friend back. "Just get out Conrad."  
  
Sulkily, the head of the day shift left, cursing under his breath as he went. When he was out of sight, the two men let go of Grissom and stared at him in disbelief. "What the hell was that about?" Warrick demanded.  
  
"It doesn't matter," Grissom muttered.  
  
"It doesn't matter!" Brass echoed in shock. "Gil, it matters when you loose it like that and punch a guy you work with - no matter what an ass Ecklie is."  
  
"Look, it doesn't matter," He snapped back. "All that matters right now is that we find Sara and Catherine. So just get me Warner or Sinclair, I don't care which, I just want one of them here now!"  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Look, it's a whole new day," Cath whispered, as she saw the sunlight beginning to seep in through the crack in the wall. She looked over at Sara, just making out the fearful expression clinging to her face. "What is it Sar?"  
  
"Tonight's my third night," She croaked on tears. "My time's almost up."  
  
"Don't be so sure," Cath countered, "I don't think he's planning on killing you. I mean, he treats you differently to me, you weren't taken on the third night and you hardly fit his profile. Looks like the odds are in you favour."  
  
"Then what does he want?" Sara cried. "Why am I here?"  
  
Catherine could shake her head. "I have no idea," She confessed quietly. There was an empty pause that lasted for what seemed like forever. Finally Catherine broke it: "Next time he brings you some food, eat it ok."  
  
Sara looked at her. "What about you?"  
  
"I'll be fine. There's no need for you to starve yourself. Anyway, I'll be able to eat as soon as the others get us out of here," She finished with a forced weak smile.  
  
"Yeah," She heard Sara murmur, unsure by her tome whether she was reassured or not. Catherine hoped she was.  
  
Out of some sort of suborn ignorance; she yanked at the chains, which turned out to be still as secure as before. Catherine turned her head away to make sure Sara couldn't see the tears of despair that trickled down her face, as she tried to stop her hope fleeing completely. One of them needed to stay strong. 'Please Gil,' She begged silently, 'Please find us soon.'  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Grissom slowly opened his eyes and looked at the clock in his office. The last thing he remembered was closing them for a second, after he'd failed to reach Brit or Jen again and was considering what he was going to do about Lindsey; that second had been over four hours ago.  
  
He looked over to where Lindsey was still sound asleep in the same chair as when he'd come in. Gris recalled walking in to find the officer, Debbie, sitting beside the sleeping girl. She had made a comment about how surprised she was that the child could sleep at all surround by all these bugs. He'd thanked her and she'd left.  
  
Lindsey stirred from her sleep and looked up at him. "Hi sweetheart," He greeted softly, "How you feeling?"  
  
"Better," She replied quietly. "Have you found mom yet?"  
  
Grissom felt a sting of pain as he shook his head. "Not yet, but we will."  
  
The girl nodded slightly, but Gris could see her spirits were dampened. She's already lost a father, and he's be damned if she lost a mother as well. Then there was the problem about where she could go. He couldn't send her back to the house with a babysitter whilst it was still a crime scene.  
  
As if giving an answer to his problem, there was a knock at the door and Jacqui poked her head in. The lab tech gave Grissom a nod. "Hey Grissom." Then she beamed at Lindsey. "Hey honey. I was wondering if this one might want to have breakfast with me and then hang out in the lab?"  
  
"What do you think Lindsey?" Grissom asked, the plan sounding heaven sent to his ears.  
  
"Sure," She nodded. The girl scooted off her chair to hurry over to Grissom to give him a hug and kiss, before leaving with Jacqui.  
  
"Come on kiddo," Jacqui said brightly, "There's this place nearby that makes the best pancakes in the world."  
  
Grissom watched them go. One dilemma had been resolved, but many still remained. Once more, his hand reached out for the phone and he dial the familiar number. Finally the ringing stopped: "Hi this is Jenny Sinclair. I'm not here at the moment, but if you want to leave a message, then I'll get back as soon as possible. Thanks. * BEEP *"  
  
"Jenny," He snapped down the phone, "Jen, I know you're there. Just pick up the goddamn phone."  
  
Quickly, the other line was picked up. "What's wrong Gris?" Jenny inquired cautiously, obviously concerned by his tone.  
  
"Did you and Brit go on a holiday for the past two days and not tell anyone?" He demanded angrily.  
  
"No, why do you say that?"  
  
"Because no one's been able to reach for the past 48 hours." There was a guilty silence. 'I don't have time for this,' He thought impatiently.  
  
He took a breath to calm himself and soften his tone. "He's taken Sara and Catherine, Jen. The killer's got them both."  
  
"What?" She gasped.  
  
"I need your help. Please."  
  
"I'll be there in 15 minutes, I swear," She promised before hanging up the phone.  
  
A/N: So what do you think? I promise I'll try my best to update sooner, but school may get in the way * shakes angry fist *. But please leave a review and tell me what you think, I need something to smile about. :O) 


	14. A Mind To Kill

Disclaimer: Hasn't changed; I still don't own this!  
  
A/N: Sorry that it took me so long. I have two excuses 1) very important course work and 2) this was a very challenging chapter to write. But thank you for bearing with me. And a huge thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: Sprinkles143, MissyJane, Elle9, The Madhatter2, cRaZyPiXiE, SisterBear and gilcathlover. You guys are amazing (pure and simple!)! Well we have both the return of Jenny and finally Brit in this chapter. I shall remind you that I don't have a forensic degree, limited psychology knowledge, nor am I a trained CSI, so I apologise for any mistakes. Well I bet you're fed up with the waffle and just want me to get on. R&R and ENJOY!!! - Bex :o)  
  
"Here you go." Greg handed another cup of coffee to Nick, as Warrick took a sip from the one he'd just received. "You guys get some sleep?"  
  
"A bit," Warrick replied. "You realise Grissom's gonna be pissed when he wakes up."  
  
Greg shrugged at this. "More than before? But come on, you all need it. None of you were going to be any help if you were about to collapse from exhaustion."  
  
Nick said nothing. He continued to nurse the mug between his fingers and stare endlessly into the dark liquid. "Nick, what is it?" Warrick inquired gently.  
  
"Tonight's Sara's third night," He whispered hoarsely. "And we've gone over ever case so many times now, putting all our efforts into getting somewhere and we find nothing. It's going to take a miracle to find her in time."  
  
"A miracle, Sinclair or Warner," Greg pointed out, trying his best to sound hopefully.  
  
"Then I hope I'll do." They all turned towards the voice. In the break room doorway stood Jenny Sinclair. Her clothes were crinkled slightly and her hair had been pulled up into a clumsy bun, allowing strands of hair to fall out. She looked like she got there in a rush. In her arms, she cradled Melissa.  
  
"Jenny," Warrick said and, without thinking, hurried over.  
  
"Hi," She greeted unsurely.  
  
"How are you?" He asked gently, wishing to ease her awkwardness around him.  
  
"Better," She answered quickly, holding tightly onto Melissa as if using her to create space between herself and Warrick. "Grissom in his office?"  
  
It only took a nod from Greg before she was off down the corridor, leaving Warrick to watch her go. Splitting his barely healing heart open once more.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Grissom stared at the black box clutched in his hand. Its very presence stirred tormented thoughts about loosing Catherine. Never before had the nightmare been so close to becoming a reality. He was too lost in his own world to hear the knock on the door. It wasn't until a voice spoke, did he realise that someone else was in the room with him: "That's for Cath isn't it?"  
  
He looked up to see Jenny before him looking worse for wear. She gave him a sad smile, holding her daughter closer for comfort. Grissom answered her question with a curt nod and placed the box away. "Where have you been?" He asked quietly, "We needed you."  
  
"I'm so sorry Grissom. What else can I say?" She replied, guilt and sorrow haunting her voice. "I'm here now and I promise you that you're going to be able to give that to her." She nodded towards the draw with the box in and a weak smile managed to touch Grissom's lips at her look of determination. A look that gave him hope.  
  
"We've set out everything we have in the layout room," He informed her.  
  
"Ok then," She said with a small smile, "If you take Melissa for a bit, I'll get on."  
  
Grissom led her to the room, took her baby from her and went to join the others in the break room. There they sat and waited.  
  
Every so often, Grissom would restlessly leave the others to walk to the layout room and peer in. Jenny would always be sitting there; either biting her lip out of habit as her eyes analysed the case files and hand furiously taking notes, or drumming her pen against the table as she mumbled things under her breath like 'what are you trying to prove?' or 'what are trying to tell me?'. How the sight reminded him of all the times he'd seen Brit work.  
  
Gris would observe her for a few minutes, before heading back; this pattern continued for over two long hours, 'til she emerged in the break room doorframe. Her eyes flickered nervously at the expectant faces. "I think I have something," She began slowly, but cut the others off before they could speak, "But I need to check it with Brit to be certain. We haven't got time for mistakes."  
  
Understanding her reasons, even if the others didn't, Gris nodded. "Fine. We're taking my car and I'm driving."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The three men, one woman and child now stood on the worn steps in front of the small house. Holding Melissa in one arm, Jenny used the other to reach out and knock on the door. "I don't care what the hell ya trying to sell," A loud bark came bursting from behind the shut door, "I don't want to buy it. And you have got three seconds to scram, before I open this door and introduce your face to my shotgu-" He cut himself off abruptly when he saw who was standing on the other side of the door. "Jenny!" Then he eyed the other men standing with her and raised an eyebrow. "And company."  
  
Maybe it was just paranoia, but Warrick swore that Brit's eyes narrowed into an icy glare upon seeing him. Nervously, he shuffled back, thankful that the old man's attention went back to Jen when she started talking: "You don't really have a gun with you, do you Brit?'  
  
The arm that was still half concealed by the door moved slightly and a clutter followed this action as something hit the floor inside. "No," He denied innocently and Jen gave him a look. "Not that it's not good to see ya, but why are you here?"  
  
She glanced quickly behind her at the others before answering, "I think we need to go inside."  
  
He stepped aside, allowing them to file in. As Warrick entered the threshold, he was sure he spotted something long and silver hidden under a small table; but Brit stepped in front of it the second he spied him looking and gave him a menacing glare. Quickly, Warrick decided that it was probably safest to follow the others into the living room. Brit was the last to enter. "Sit down all of you and tell me what this is all about."  
  
Jenny remained standing whilst the others found spaces to sit. "You heard about the guy who's killing the prostitutes and strippers?" Jenny asked. Brit nodded and she continued, "Well, he's taken Catherine and Sara."  
  
The old man's orbs widen in shock and recollections of the time he went through the same ordeal, looking from Grissom to Nick with a look of empathy. "Oh god, that asshole," He breathed, "I'm so sorry."  
  
"I need your help," Jenny told him, handing over the files and her notes. "We have to catch him Brit. We have to get them back."  
  
Brit sat down heavily in his armchair and started to scan through her notes. "You have," He murmured and looked up to meet Jenny's expectant gaze. "All you need to know about him is here. All you need to know to catch him is here," He stated, tapping the paper in time to his words. "To find him, you have to stop thinking about him. You need to start thinking like him. You need to become him."  
  
A scared look covered Jen's face and Warrick got to his feet. He remembered what happened last time Brit got her to do this. He remembered the nightmares that haunted her for weeks afterwards. "I'm not sure if that's the be-" He began, but Brit cut him off with a dangerous glare.  
  
"When I want your opinion, which I sincerely doubt I ever will, I'll ask for it," He snapped; Warrick hastily sat back down and shut his mouth firmly. Brit's expression softened as he turned back to Jen and tenderly took her free hand in his. "Remember what I taught you; from the brain and the brain alone, arise our pleasures, joys, laughter and jests, as well as our sorrow, pain, grief and tears..."  
  
"The brain is also the seat of madness and delirium, of the fears and terrors which assail by night or day," She finished the quote off and nodded slightly. "I know, I know. To stop him, first we must understand his way of thinking. And to understand him, we must become him." She paused and held her daughter closer to her chest, as she tried to fight the fear from her face. "I'm just scared Brit," She confessed softly.  
  
He nodded in understanding and squeezed her hand. "I know. But to save all we must risk all. You can do this Jen; I know you can. I'll be here to help you. I'm gonna take good care of you, I promise."  
  
After she nodded again, he took Melissa from her and handed the infant over to Grissom. The child gurgled, unaware of what was happening around her. The men watched intensely as Jenny took a deep breath to try to regain her composure, whilst Brit sat down in front of her. "Now, tell me what you know," He commanded.  
  
Jen took another breath. "He-"  
  
"No," Brit cut in, "Not him. He is you and you are him."  
  
"I'm sorry," She muttered and Brit gently touched her arm.  
  
"It's ok, let's just start again."  
  
"I...I..." Jenny Stuttered, as she shut her eyes tightly. "I'm a male. I'm single, living alone."  
  
"How do we know that?" Brit questioned.  
  
"Because of the type of crime. Who my victims are and how I treat them."  
  
"Your victims? Do you really see them as that?"  
  
She hesitated. "No. A victim must be innocent. I'm punishing them."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because of who they are. The immoral things they do. I'm saving them. I'm cleansing them."  
  
"Cleansing?" Grissom asked before he could stop himself.  
  
Jen spun around, her eyes glazed and an expression he never seen her ware before. This wasn't the Jenny he knew; this was someone else. "The white dresses - purity. Starvation - repenting. The water - cleansing."  
  
"Rape?"  
  
"Punishment."  
  
Warrick was sure that they all felt the same chill running up and down their spine seeing her like this. Everything recognisable about her had vanished to be replaced by some sort of evil: a killer's mind. "Why did you use a condom? With the last girl, why did you use a condom when you didn't before?"  
  
"Because I didn't rape the girls before," She blurted out to everyone's amazement, including herself.  
  
"The guy with no hands," Warrick muttered to himself, but everyone heard. "Rick Tarantino; the crime scene was as clean as the others, he was killed after Portia and his DNA wasn't on record. He was your partner wasn't he?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then why did you kill him?"  
  
Jenny seemed to break free of the spell for a moment. The old her was back, trying to find the missing pieces of the puzzle. "Because he was getting greedy," She stated and looked round at the others. "He raped Portia twice, not once. Once is punishment, twice is enjoyment."  
  
"What about Sara? Why did he take her?" Nick asked desperately.  
  
Jenny scrunched her eyes tightly and held her head between her hands. "As a distraction," She said after a long pause. "To gain more time. So you'd become more focused on finding her and not the next girl."  
  
"So she's safe? He's not going to kill her?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What about Cath," Grissom questioned, praying for the same answer. "She gave up stripping."  
  
"That means nothing," Jen spat, her voice rising with every word, "She still degraded herself. She's still as bad. No one can be forgiven until they're punished for their sins. Until they are judged. She must b...."  
  
Jenny chocked on her last words as she collapsed to the floor in hysterics, the last minutes taking their toll on her. Brit cradled her head in his lap, as he stroked her hair whilst she sobbed against his knees. "Shhh," Brit soothed. "It's alright now. You're safe. That wasn't you."  
  
"But...but it felt like me," She sobbed, only barely audible above Melissa screams for her mother. The infant had seemed to sense something was wrong and had started to wail; much to Grissom's awkwardness as he tried to unsuccessfully calm her. "I know why he killed them. I began to understand why he killed them. It was as if I had done it inste-"  
  
"But it wasn't," Brit insisted firmly, holding her head in his palms and staring straight into her eyes. "You have hurt no one. You couldn't hurt anyone, 'cause you don't have that in you. You're a good person with a good heart, remember that."  
  
She feebly nodded and roughly brushed away her tears. Lovingly, Brit kissed her on the forehead. Warrick took Melissa from a panicked Grissom and gently rocked the baby 'til she settled again. "You did a great job, Jenny. I'm proud of you. Now go and fetch some coffee, it'll make you feel better," Brit told her with a smile.  
  
She nodded obediently. She cast a glance at Warrick to make sure Melissa was all right and their eyes locked as they exchanged a faint smile.  
  
The second she was out of earshot, Brit's face darkened and he strode over to Warrick, holding his cane out before the CSI's legs to block his retreat. " I don't know what the hell you did," He growled viciously, "But if Jenny ever comes here again in tear because of you, you're a dead man. And I could shoot you from LA and make it look like suicide. Do I make myself clear?'  
  
Even though he couldn't see it, Warrick was certain that Grissom and Nick were staring at him questioningly, realising they'd found the reason behind Brit's and Jenny's disappearance. Warrick barely managed to nod in response; the old man's rage was petrifying and he had a sinking suspicion that this was only the eye of the storm. "Good," Brit snapped and backed away, just as Jenny walked back in carrying a tray of coffee.  
  
She looked at each man's face in confusion. "What's going on?"  
  
"Nothing," Brit reassured her with a wide kind smile. "Nothing at all." He took the tray from her. "Coffee anyone?"  
  
A/N: They're getting closer! I'm not sure how long it'll take me to write the next chapter, but I'll promise to do it ASAP. (But reviews are always encouraging!) But right now I want to know what you think; so hit that button NOW! Go on, you know you want to! :o) 


	15. Learning

Disclaimer: Hasn't changed; I still don't own this!  
  
A/N: Ok, I'm about to start with the apologies again: I'm sorry it took so long. I've now completed my Mocks (I worked hard for my U in maths!) and I'm still struggling with coursework, but there is only just over a week left 'til I'm free for Christmas hols! So lets make a deal: if I update this within a week, no apologies. Ok? Thanks to all who reviewed last time: Charming-Storm, little me, Cool Penguin, Sprinkles143, spikes-storm, MissyJane, Megs23, Nicola and The Madhatter2. You guys are wonderful. I'll now shut up and get on with the plot. R&R and ENJOY!!! - Bex  
  
Brit had insisted - much to Nick and Grissom's annoyance - that they should finish at least one mug of coffee before they left. His logic behind this was that they needed to calm down a bit to be able to think straight. However, he had allowed Gris to ring ahead so he could order a nasal swab from Pick Tarantino and for Greg to check his DNA against the semen's. Also Grissom asked them to get an officer to bring Lindsey over to Brit's; the old man said he didn't mind looking after her and it was about time he spent some time with her.  
  
After drinking the scolding liquid as fast as possible, and when Brit seemed satisfied, they were allowed to go. As they left, Brit gave Jenny strict instructions to get some rest; the young woman was still quite shaken by the advents before. They climbed into Grissom's car, where the question began almost instantly: "You're sure that he's not going to hurt Sara?" Nick asked again, still needing reassurance.  
  
"Almost positive. She doesn't fit the vic profile and she wasn't taken on the third night. Serial killers create a pattern - a ritual if you want to call it that - and they stick to it," She explained. "They can't stand it when something goes wrong or something interferes with it; like the police or you guys. He's going to keep repeating the pattern until he's caught."  
  
"And it looks like Catherine's next," Grissom muttered darkly.  
  
"Not if we have anything to do with it," Warrick reassured. "Come on Gris; I've got a gut feeling our new lead's gonna help us catch him in time. We'll have them back before you know it."  
  
"So anything else you want to add that you have mentioned already Jen?" Grissom inquired.  
  
"Only that he's definitely an ex con. That's probably how he met Tarantino."  
  
"How can you be so sure?" Nick asked.  
  
"Because he took too much precaution for his DNA not to be on record. Also it could be the reason he's so good at covering his tracks," She stated.  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
Jenny glanced awkwardly at Warrick then adverted her gaze, but not quickly enough for him not to notice. "Because we learn from our mistakes."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The vehicle glided back into its space in the parking lot and the occupants got out. Warrick spied Jenny's car parked in the furthest spot from the building. He looked at her, wondering what she meant when she said that we learn from out mistakes? Was their kiss a mistake? Was everything about them a mistake?  
  
Melissa had fallen asleep in her arms. She held her tightly and rocked her gently. Jenny looked at them, focusing on Nick and Grissom, whilst she ignored Warrick. "I'm going home to get some sleep like Brit said. Call me if you need any more help," She reminded them and smiled reassuringly. "They'll be back safe, soon."  
  
She had only taken a few steps before someone grabbed her arm. When she turned round she was met by Warrick's sad face. "Can...can I walk you to your car?" He asked unsurely.  
  
"I can managed," She replied curtly.  
  
"Jenny-"  
  
"I'll see you soon Warrick," She cut across quickly and walked away.  
  
He watched her go; kicking himself about what a mess he'd made out of everything. Warrick knew the other men were staring at him and he knew it was only a matter of time before Nick asked: "What happened?"  
  
"It doesn't matter."  
  
"It does when it's the reason we couldn't contact Brit or Jenny earlier," Nick snapped angrily.  
  
"Nick," Gris said, trying to keep the peace though Warrick knew he was just as mad.  
  
"No Grissom. We've got a right to know. What did you do?"  
  
"I kissed her, ok?" Warrick blurted out, the hurt, anger and rejection filling his voice. "You were right all along. I'm in love with her. I love her and that kid more than anything else. I didn't mean for it to happen and now it did, I wish it hadn't. She made it perfectly clear that she doesn't feel the same. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I stopped us from getting them back before. I'm sorry I lost Cath more time."  
  
There was an awkward stillness as these words settled in. Then Grissom unexpectedly put a hand on Warrick's shoulder. "We've still got some time left to get her back. And we're going to get them both back safely." He looked at both of them. "That's all that matters right now. Come on, we've got work to do."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Over on the other side of the car park, Jenny placed Melissa into the baby seat in the car, careful not to wake her daughter. She fastened her seat belt and kissed her gently on the head, then wiped the two silent tears from her eyes. She shut the door and went to get into the driver's seat. The sky was getting darker by the minute as a new night captured Vegas.  
  
It was the twig that snapped when he stepped on it that gave her a warning no one else had. During the first inhalation of the intoxicated cloth that had been pressed against her mouth, her elbow had been bought sharply backwards and into his ribcage. He grunted and doubled over in pain.  
  
Jenny's head was spinning and she felt faint, but as she glanced drowsily at the man dressed in black with his face concealed by a balaclava, her mothering instincts kicked in. She knew she had to protect her baby at all costs.  
  
Swaying slightly, she tried to hurry to the other side of the car, but he had already recovered. He shoved her back against the car; waking Melissa up and the infant began to bawl. With all the oxygen in her lungs, Jenny started to scream.  
  
The men were halfway into the building when they heard them. They ran back to see Jenny struggling to fight off an unidentifiable man. It looked like she'd just clawed at his neck, when he viciously slapped her with the back of his hand. She went limp as her head smacked against the metal door. "LEAVE HER ALONE!" Warrick roared before he could stop himself, as he sprinted over there.  
  
The attacker looked up to see the three men heading towards him. He took off as fast as he could; Nick persuade him, whilst Warrick rushed to Jenny's aid and Grissom went to retrieve the distressed baby.  
  
"Jenny? Jenny?" Warrick said as he gently shook her.  
  
She opened her eyes slightly. "Melissa?" She chocked.  
  
Warrick looked up to see Grissom trying to calm Melissa again by rocking her in his arms. "She's safe."  
  
"He got away," Nick panted as he returned. "He goddamn got away."  
  
Warrick felt the rage building. The second he found that man would be the second he'd make him sorry for ever laying a finger on Jenny. "You're going to be alright," Warrick told her softly and went to hold her hand, but she jerked it away.  
  
"Don't. It's his," She muttered. He looked at her nails and realised they were covered with blood.  
  
"Nick, get Greg out here, tell Brass what happened and make sure someone calls an ambulance," Grissom ordered above Melissa's cries. Nick nodded and hurried towards the building.  
  
Only minutes later, the lab tech came running out with a kit in his hand. He froze when he saw Jenny slumped against the car, battered and almost unconscious. "Greg," Grissom barked, snapping him out of his trance.  
  
"Sorry," He apologised, as he removed a swab and knelt down before her. Gently, he held her wrist as he collected a sample from under her fingernails. "Hey Sinclair. You've done a good job. We'll find him and when we do, he'll be sorry," He reassured. When he'd finished, he stood back up. "An ambulance is in its way," He told the others.  
  
"Thanks Greg," Grissom said.  
  
Greg smiled faintly and headed back towards the lab to run the DNA through CODIS. Warrick wrapped an arm protectively around Jenny. "An ambulance will be here soon Jen, so just hold on, ok?"  
  
"Melissa?" She whispered.  
  
"She's fine."  
  
"I'm sorry. I feel so tired..." Her voice trailed off as her eyes rolled back into her head and she passed out against Warrick shoulder.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Sara wanted to scream for the light to come back; despite Catherine's reassurances, she was sure that her time was up. The door opened and she cowered back as far as she could into the shadows. Every step he took echoed around the cell, making her heart pound faster with fear. She was sure that Cath felt it as well. 'I'm going to die,' Her head screamed, 'I'm going to die.'  
  
But he completely blanked them both; angrily throwing a set of chains he was carrying into the corner. In the faint light, she could just make out several open gashes on his neck. He must have sense her staring at him, because he spun round. His raging eyes burned into her.  
  
"Leave her alone!" Cath began to shriek, with strength Sara was amazed to see she had left. "Leave her alone. LEAVE HER ALONE YOU ASSHOLE!"  
  
He turned round, stormed angrily over to where she was chained and delivered a teeth-rattling smack across her face. It silenced her, as she spat blood on to the floor.  
  
He marched out, taking the light with him. But he left something behind; despite him attacking Catherine, Sara had found a wisp of hope. She was going to live.  
  
For now.  
  
A/N: What do you think? You guys should know by now that I wanna hear it, plus it'll help me write faster ;o) So what are you waiting for? HIT THAT BUTTON NOW!!!! 


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